Dark Love
by Wandergirl108
Summary: Another Izzy Rogers fanfic, to complete my biography of the woman - the story of how she and Matthew Downs met, and their life together up to one week before they crossed paths with the BAU. Some bits may contradict the canon slightly, but it's close enough. Rated M for explicit content, sexual sadism, and overall disturbing-ness.
1. Two Dark Souls

_Boom!_

Matthew Downs smiled as the explosion sent debris and bits of dead human flying everywhere and everyone left alive went into a panic.

All around him, people screamed for missing 'loved ones', screamed for help, or just screamed mindlessly at the top of their lungs, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. He stood still, a rock in the middle of a river, as the panicked crowd ran and stumbled and flowed past him.

In his eyes, it was beautiful.

_Serves you right,_ he thought. Sure, he was in Chad, but people were people, no matter where you went. He hadn't been the one who had _set_ the bomb, but he felt a bit of admiration for whoever had done it, though they probably had different motives than what his would have been if it _had_ been him…

Suddenly, he noticed something. Not far away, a woman was standing still, too. She, too, was watching the chaos, and he thought she might even have been smiling as well.

He stared at her, the pleasure of watching havoc wrought all but forgotten. She was very pretty, from what he could see: A strong, lean body, curvy in the right places; a proud, confident posture, with an air of power and control; and straight black hair that was just long enough to hide her face from him.

He waited for her to notice him, just as he had her - a person standing still in the middle of a crisis was very noteworthy. Sure enough, as she looked at all the chaos surrounding them, she turned in his direction. Her face was almost more beautiful than the discord he had just been admiring, and her eyes…There was something in her eyes…

Their eyes met, and she froze, likewise spellbound. Slowly, as though in a trance, they walked up to each other, all but oblivious to the mayhem around them. All Matthew could think was, _I'm not the only one._

Though what exactly it was that he wasn't the only one _of_, he wasn't sure…

When they reached each other, Matthew was too nervous to speak. What was he supposed to say to her?

Fortunately, she didn't feel the same.

"What's your name?" she asked him.

"Matthew," he replied, almost breathless. "Yours?"

"Izzy," she replied.

He held out his hand. She shook it. Neither one of them said "Nice to meet you"; there was already something between them, though neither of them was quite sure what…

Suddenly, one of the headless chickens ran through their handshake, oblivious to their presence, screaming his head off. Both Matthew and Izzy watched him go and chuckled…then stopped when they heard each other's laughter.

They looked at each other.

Izzy smiled sexily. "Do you enjoy all this chaos, too?" she asked Matthew.

Matthew blinked; the way she had said it made it feel like she was hitting on him. "Yes," he replied; "do you?"

"This is what I _live_ for," she said with relish, an evil glint in her eyes.

"Are you the one who planted that bomb?" Matthew asked.

"That depends," she bantered flirtatiously; "who's asking?"

Matthew smiled. "Just a fellow admirer of chaos," he replied.

She ginned evilly and bit her lower lip in a very sexy way. "Yes I did," she said proudly.

"You should get out of here before the cops come," Matthew said, trying to flirt back.

"We're in _Chad_," she said, rolling her eyes. "Are there even cops here at _all_?"

"Every country has a law enforcement system of some sort," Matthew told her.

She narrowed her eyes. "And how do you know that?" she asked suspiciously.

Suddenly, Matthew noticed that everyone had escaped the area; all that remained was the wreckage…and the imminent arrival of the first responders.

"How about we talk somewhere else?" he suggested, motioning at the empty area.

Izzy glanced around, then smiled at him again. "Okay," she said in a very sexy tone of voice; "let's talk over lunch?"

"Right behind you," Matthew said, smiling back, and they left. As he walked, there was was only one thought in Matthew's mind:

_This woman is incredible…!_

~X~

"So, Matthew," Izzy said after the waiter had taken their orders, "what's _your_ story?" She widened her eyes momentarily in a creepy way that sent his heart racing.

"Well, I was a Marine," he began.

Izzy raised her eyebrows at him and moved as though to leave.

"I _was_ a Marine," he clarified, holding out a hand to stop her. "Not anymore."

Izzy smiled wickedly again and sat back down. "I was just kidding," she teased.

Matthew smiled back.

"So why the love of carnage?" Izzy asked him.

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?" he bantered, trying to flirt back.

"Baby, I don't beat _around_ _anything_," she said with a nasty grin.

She didn't scare him. "Well, Izzy," he said, "are you American? You sound American."

Izzy's evil smile widened. "I _was_," she said, her tone teasing and sexy. "Haven't been to the states in a while. Too many police, not enough work."

He smiled back. "Well, you should still know, the American government tends to be…exploitative." His mood darkened. "They just use us and toss us aside, and no one cares."

"So you feel betrayed," Izzy said. "Betrayed by your country, is that it?"

"Sort of," he replied; "I mean, that's why I'm…angry, I guess you could say. As for loving chaos…" He shrugged. "People just…disgust me, I guess. They're all like sheep, letting themselves be herded around by their leaders, ignoring all the betrayal and injustice around them."

Izzy smiled, her eyes glinting, as he spoke. "Hear, hear," she said huskily.

Matthew swallowed. "So what's _your_ story?" he asked her.

Her wicked smile widened. "A bit more colorful than yours," she said nastily. "I worked as an assassin for a while, but I didn't like having to rely on others to give me an _extra_ reason to kill people, so I quit and just started flat-out murdering people, robbing banks to make a living…and, of course, setting off the occasional bomb in public places, just for fun," she added nastily.

She was being completely honest with him, but for some reason, he still wasn't scared of her, or even put off. "Why do you enjoy killing so much?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "People disgust me, too," she replied. "I have my own reasons for that, though."

"And you're not going to tell me?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed nastily. "We just met," she said mockingly; "I don't want to tell you _too_ much about me!"

They both laughed as the waiter came back with their orders.

They talked while they ate, telling each other about all the different things they had seen or done. They had both been all over the world, so they had a lot to share; their conversation took them well into the night. Matthew quickly started wishing he had more chaos stories; all of the stories Izzy told ended with her killing at least one person. She told the stories with relish, as though she lived for the thrill of murder and chaos, and some of the things she had done were horrific beyond anything he could have schemed himself.

He was in complete awe of her.

"So," he finally said as they finished, "where are you staying?"

She chuckled nastily. "Why?" she teased. "You wanna come with me?"

He smiled, no longer uncomfortable with her outrageous flirting. "Maybe not just yet," he teased back. Then he put on a serious face and added, "I _would_ like to see you again, though. Soon."

"Well, you _do_ sort of owe me," she said mockingly.

He blinked. "I do?" he asked.

"I wasn't able to enjoy even _half_ the chaos I caused today, thanks to you," she told him, smiling and clearly not mad. "Maybe you could make it up to me?"

"And how do you propose I do that?" he asked, trying to match her flirty smile.

"Well, I only set off bombs on occasion, but maybe I can make an exception in this case," she said. "How about we blow something else up tomorrow? Together?"

"You're an impressive bomber," he said; "I'd probably just get in your way."

She smiled nastily. "Don't toy with me, baby," she taunted; "you _know_ you want in."

He smiled back. "I would love to," he told her; "when and where?"

"Meet me at the train station tomorrow at noon," she told him. "People are still going to be in a panic over the bombing today…They'll probably be crowding all the public transportation centers, desperate to get away…" She trailed off dreamily - clearly dreaming about the chaos she could cause in such a scenario.

Matthew chuckled. "You're ruthless," he commented.

She laughed evilly. "And proud of it, baby!" she replied.

Matthew smiled. "I'll see you there," he told her.

She gave him her evil, sexy smile. "See you tomorrow," she said in a very sexy tone of voice. "Have a good night."

"You too," he said, and he walked away. Again, as he walked, he could only think one thing:

_This woman is _incredible_…!_

~X~

Matthew tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep. All he could think about was Izzy.

_Izzy_…She was _amazing_. Her stories of murder and chaos had shamed his war stories, and her ruthlessness was inspirational. She was the most incredible person he had ever met. He knew, deep down, that there was something very wrong with liking a woman who reveled in the pain and deaths of others, but…there was something about her…something in her eyes…

He puzzled over it for hours as the night crept slowly by. What was it he had seen in her eyes? Why was he so drawn to her?

Finally, it dawned on him: He had seen _himself_. His own self, his own mindset, had been perfectly reflected in her eyes.

They were alike.

He smiled as he finally drifted off to sleep, just as the sky outside started to brighten with pre-dawn light. The last thought on his mind was her name:

_Izzy…_

o~X~o

Izzy worked on the bomb all night. She didn't trust anyone else to know bombs as well as she did - she had studied them intensively.

Of course, she didn't trust anyone in _any_ way…

_So why did I spend all day with…_him_?_ she wondered.

She had noticed him admiring her work early on and had wondered at it. But when he had looked at _her_…when their eyes had met…she had felt something.

She had felt like she wasn't alone.

She had always been alone - no one had ever cared for her, not even during her childhood. Especially_ not during my childhood,_ she thought. But she had never felt lonely - she had always felt like she was better off alone. The way she saw it, everyone was evil; it was safer for her to keep to herself.

But then she had met…_him_.

She hadn't lied to him - nothing she had told him had been in any way untrue. She had kept expecting him to be horrified, but the way he had looked at her…it was almost as though he _admired_ her. No one had ever looked at her like that before. Sure, plenty of guys had been drawn to her admittedly overdone sex appeal, but that was just something she did for control.

_Men tend to think with their dicks._

But this one…Matthew…he was different. It had almost seemed like her _flirting_ had made him more uncomfortable than her thirst for chaos had…

She gave herself a little shake. Why should she waste her time on him? No one was trustworthy. She should just kill him and be done with it.

But she didn't _want_ to kill him…

_What is _wrong_ with me?_ she wondered. _I want to kill _everyone_! Everyone _deserves_ to die! There are no exceptions!_

And yet…

As she put the finishing touches on the bomb, she made up her mind.

_I'll test him, to see if he can be of any use to me, _she decided._ If he can, then I…guess I'll let him tag along - for a little while, at least. If he _can't_…_

_Then he dies._


	2. Initiation

Matthew woke up at 11:00 AM, but he wasn't worried; the train station was only five minutes away on foot.

He got up, brushed his teeth, and took a shower. Halfway through getting dressed, he realized he was deliberately trying to pick out the least ugly of his meagre sets of clothes.

_I must be crazy about this woman,_ he thought.

Then, _I must be crazy _to_ like this woman._

He pushed the thought aside and finished getting dressed, then went to get something to eat. By the time he got to the train station, it was 11:45. He hoped he could impress her by being there before her, if she wasn't there already. She _did_ seem like the sort of person who would be early for this kind of thing, though, so he went looking for her.

He found her sitting down, leaning back against a wall, her eyes closed.

"Izzy?" he asked.

Her eyes flew open, and she stood up and looked at him. "So, you showed up," she said mockingly.

He blinked. "I'm fifteen minutes _early_," he said.

"You are?" she asked, genuinely surprised. She looked at her watch. "Huh. So you are," she said, smiling wickedly at him.

Her evil smile made his heart flutter, but her words confused him. "How long have you been here?" he asked her.

"Since I finished making the bomb last night," she replied.

He blinked. "Did you _sleep_ here?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Well, I'm not staying anywhere in particular," she said; "I sleep wherever is convenient."

Matthew's eyes widened. All he could think was, _She deserves better._

Before he could even think about it, he asked her, "Would you like to stay with _me_?"

She chuckled nastily. "And you say _I_ don't beat around the bush," she teased.

Matthew blushed deeply. "I…I didn't mean…I wasn't saying…I mean, we don't have to…I…I just…I just think you shouldn't sleep on the streets," he finally blurted out. "You should have a place to stay."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you care?" she asked coldly.

"I…" He couldn't answer.

She shook her head. "Look, it's not important right now," she said. "I already set the bomb, so-"

"Then what do you need _me_ for?" he asked her.

She smiled wickedly and handed him a cell phone. "Speed dial number 2 sets it off," she told him. She pointed at a platform. "The bomb is set between that platform and the tracks. It's a bit smaller than what I usually do, since I had to throw it together last minute, but you can still kill a lot of people if you time it right." She turned back to him and smiled wickedly. "Ready to play god?" she asked him tauntingly.

He blinked. "Are you testing me?" he asked her.

Her nasty smile widened. "Maybe," she teased.

"What for?" he asked her.

"You want to work with me, Matthew?" she asked him. "You're going to need to be at _least_ half as evil as me."

"You think you're evil?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled her evil smile. "I _know_ I am," she replied huskily; "the question is, are _you_?"

He stared at her for a long minute. She wasn't trying to justify what they were doing or pretend it wasn't wrong. She was brutally honest, even with herself…and he couldn't help but respect that. _Too many people in this world are liars,_ he thought.

Finally, he smiled back. "I'm ready to be," he said.

She gave him a very slow, sexy smile. "Show me what you got, hotshot," she said in a very suggestive tone of voice, and she stepped aside to give him a clear view of the platform.

She had been right: The place was packed. The platform he was supposed to blow up, however, didn't seem to be attracting many people just then. He checked the arrival time over it.

_12:45._

_She's giving me time to think about what I'm doing,_ he realized. _She's giving me time to have second thoughts, to get cold feet, to back out._

_Well, I'll show her,_ he thought, his resolve solidifying. _I'm not going to back out. A lot of people are going to die here today, and _I'm_ going to be the one to pull the trigger._

He waited, watching, his thumb on the number 2 key on the cell phone he held at his side. Slowly, a crowd started to gather around the bomb, completely oblivious to its presence. Matthew waited patiently, though he felt Izzy's eyes on him the whole time.

Finally, the train arrived, and the doors opened. The first person came out, having to fight his way through the crowd of people that was clustered in front of the open door.

Matthew pressed the number 2 on the cell phone. "How big is the blast radius?" he asked Izzy.

"About ten feet," she replied.

He nodded and watched, his thumb on the "send" key. The crowd was so thick, it was difficult for people to disembark, and they all started getting backed up. Matthew kept his eye on the first arrival, waiting for him to be just barely close enough to get hit by the blast.

Finally, the area around the bomb was as crowded with people as it could get. Matthew smiled and pressed "send".

_Boom!_

Izzy had slightly understated the bomb's power; the blast radius was about twelve feet, and there was plenty of fire and shrapnel. Instinctively, Matthew ducked and turned away, protecting his front.

Dust and debris flew everywhere. A hole was blown in the side of the train, and everything combustible on the inside caught fire. People screamed and tried to scatter, but they were so densely packed, they blocked each other from moving. They started pushing each other to the ground and trampling each other, desperate to get away - there would be plenty of casualties from the panic alone, that much was clear. As for how many had died in the actual explosion…it was hard to say for sure, but at least a dozen, probably more.

Matthew heard Izzy moan sensually beside him. He looked over at her, and saw that her eyes were closed, her head was tilted back, and her mouth was open slightly, as though watching people panic and die was some sort of intense sexual experience.

"Izzy?" he asked.

She let out a breath and looked at him. "Yes?" she asked, sounding mildly annoyed.

"Are…you okay?" he asked her.

She smiled evilly at him. "I'm a sadist," she told him. "I get off on the pain and death of others - _especially_ when widespread panic is involved." Her nasty smile widened. "You got a problem with that?" she asked him sassily.

Matthew blinked. "No," he replied, realizing as he said it that it was true.

It was Izzy's turn to blink. "Really?" she asked. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all," he told her firmly.

Her eyebrows met. She stared at him intently, as though she had never seen him before; clearly, she hadn't expected him to be okay with what most people would consider a sick perversion.

Matthew smiled reassuringly at her, then turned back to watch the chaos. "Look at them," he laughed, gesturing to the crowd; "they're killing _each_ _other_! The bomb's already gone off, but they're still desperate to get away!"

"It _is_ beautiful," Izzy agreed. "You did a good job."

"Define 'good'," he bantered.

She laughed, and Matthew's heart soared. _I made her laugh!_ he thought joyfully. _Really, sincerely laugh!_

They watched the mayhem for another minute, enjoying the spectacle.

"You know what?" Izzy finally said. "I think I'm going to enjoy working with you."

He turned to her. "So I passed?" he asked.

She chuckled nastily. "With flying colors," she said mockingly. She glanced around one more time, then said, "Come on; as much as I love watching this, we better go before we end up getting trampled ourselves."

"Right behind you," Matthew said, smiling, and they walked away together.

~X~

They walked down the street, talking and laughing about the different things they had seen at the bombing. Izzy made Matthew feel comfortable with enjoying the suffering of others. He knew he would never be a full sadist himself, but it _was_ fun.

Finally, he worked up the nerve to bring up the subject of lodgings again.

"You really can stay with me, you know," he told her.

She chuckled nastily. "We just met," she teased; "don't you think maybe you're going a _little_ fast?"

He smiled back. "I don't mean with me _with_ _me_," he told her; "not necessarily. I just think you should have a place to stay. I'll sleep on the floor," he offered.

She chuckled. "For how long?" she asked mockingly.

He chuckled too, then put on a serious expression. "Look, all joking aside, I really _am_ just offering you a place to stay, no strings attached," he told her. "I just…think you deserve better than to sleep on the streets. And what if someone finds you? What if you get hurt? It just…makes me worry."

She stopped and turned to him. "You're worried about me?" she asked, sounding puzzled.

"Yes," he replied. "I…Yes, I am."

Izzy blinked, looking confused, as though someone worrying about her was something that had never happened to her before.

Matthew wondered at that.

Finally, she smiled a very slow, sexy, evil smile; Matthew felt equal parts relief and concern at the return of the icy cruelty in her eyes. "Thanks for the offer," she said, "but no thanks. I prefer to sleep out in the open. Staying indoors just makes me feel…trapped."

"Why?" he asked her, curious.

Pain flashed across her face for a moment; she covered it quickly, but Matthew knew he hadn't imagined it. "I have my reasons," she said cryptically - which _would_ have worked, had he not seen her initial reaction.

"Izzy…what's going on with you?" he asked softly. "What are you not telling me?"

She laughed nastily. "Lots of things," she replied mockingly; "don't expect me to tell you my life story."

"Not ever?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her and smiling, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled wickedly. "Don't expect to stay with me forever, baby," she said tauntingly; "this can't last, you know."

Matthew felt a knife in his heart - the thought of losing her was…painful, somehow. "Why not?" he asked her.

She couldn't completely hide the sadness in her eyes. "It just can't," she replied. She smiled again, her normal manner returning, and added, "Besides, I can't stay here much longer - two bombs have gone off here in as many days, so I need to get going."

"I'll come with you," Matthew said; "I don't have to be anywhere in particular." _Except with you._

"So what was all that about offering me a place to stay?" she asked teasingly.

"Well, I'm saying in a hotel," he replied. "I'm not tied down anywhere."

She gave him a twisted smile. "I'll think about it," she said sexily. "See you around, hotshot." She started walking away.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, hold on!" he said, quickly stepping forward and catching her arm.

She turned back to him. The look in her eyes was very scary, as though his touching her arm was offensive to her.

He quickly let go. "I just blew up a train station with you," he said, smiling to try and lighten her mood; "I'm not letting you get away _that_ easily!"

She laughed. "Fair enough," she said. "Where are you staying?"

"Does this mean you're going to stay with me?" he bantered.

"No," she replied, "but I'll be outside your hotel in the morning."

He gave her his current address.

"Alright," she said. "Pack your things - we leave tomorrow morning." She smiled wickedly. "See you then," she said, and she turned to go again.

"Izzy!" Matthew called after her.

She turned back to him.

"My full name's Matthew Downs, by the way," he told her.

"Izzy Rogers," she replied.

"Nice to meet you," he said teasingly.

"You too," she teased back. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Izzy," he said, and they parted.


	3. Evil

When Matthew got back to his room, he realized he had nothing to do for the rest of the day. He packed his few belongings…and then, nothing.

He tried to get some sleep, to make up for the previous night, but he couldn't.

He thought about getting something to eat, but he wasn't hungry.

He thought about TV, but he wasn't in the mood.

Really, the only thing he wanted to do was see Izzy again.

So he thought about her. _Izzy._ The most amazing woman he had ever met…The most amazing _person_ he had ever met. He thought about all the things he liked about her: Her beauty, her evil smile, the cruelty with which she treated humankind, her skill with bombs, her honesty with herself and who she was…Watching her get off on the havoc they had wrought had been pleasurable for him, too. After all, it had been _his_ action that had caused it…It was almost as though they'd had sex…

He wondered what sex with Izzy would be like.

Based on the way she acted, he guessed she was very experienced. Would she _only_ get off on pain? She had called herself a sadist…Would she have to hurt him while they did it? Well, he wouldn't mind. Whatever made her feel good would make _him_ feel good, too…

_I am in love with this woman,_ he admitted to himself. _I am madly in love with her._

The afternoon and evening passed as he lay there, thinking about her - he deliberately tried not to think about the pain in her eyes when he had asked why she preferred to stay outside, or the feeling he got that there was more to her than there seemed. When night fell, however, he started to get antsy. He didn't like the thought of her being out on the streets at night, all alone. Not that he thought she couldn't take care of herself, but what if someone snuck up on her while she slept? What if something happened?

It wasn't long before he gave up and decided to go looking for her. He grabbed his things, just in case he would be all night, and left. He checked out at the lobby, walked outside, glanced around to decide which way he should go first…and saw her, right there against the wall of the hotel. She was sitting back, her eyes closed, a black bag slung over her shoulder at her side.

"Izzy?" he asked.

Her eyes flew open, and she stood, just like at the train station earlier that day.

"Is it morning already?" she asked teasingly, smiling at him.

He blinked. "Uh…no," he replied.

"Then what are you doing out here?" she asked him.

"I was…going to go looking for you," he replied.

She blinked, then smiled mockingly. "Didn't trust me to be here in the morning?" she teased.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean…" Matthew gave himself a little shake. "Look, I just didn't like the idea of you sleeping out on the streets all alone," he told her, stepping closer to her.

"I can take care of myself, baby," Izzy told him.

"I don't doubt that," Matthew said, "but-"

"If some idiot wants to mess with me, that's _their_ funeral," Izzy said. "Besides, I like having an extra excuse to commit murder."

"Izzy, you're an amazing bomber," Matthew told her, "but-"

She reached into the back of her pants and pulled out a gun.

Matthew blinked.

She smiled wickedly. "I don't go _anywhere_ unarmed, baby," she said, her tone both dangerous and sexy.

"But what about when you're asleep?" he asked, trying to get her to understand his fears. "Someone could sneak up on you."

Izzy laughed coldly. "I'm a light sleeper," she said, "and if someone _tried_ to sneak up on me, I wouldn't hesitate to shoot."

Matthew stared at her. She really was fearless…Ruthless…

…_Amazing_.

She smiled her wicked smile. "Since you're up, though, we might as well go now," she said; "I have no reason to stay."

"Me neither," he said. "How are we leaving?"

"Well, we can't take a train," she joked, the evil in her eyes glinting.

He chuckled. "By plane, then?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, that would be too complicated," she said.

"Then what?" he asked.

She smiled evilly again. "You're thinking too hard," she told him; "it's simple. We don't have to do anything _legal_ to get out of here."

Matthew blinked, then smiled back. "Grand theft auto, is that what you're thinking?" he asked.

She laughed sinisterly. "_Now_ you're catching on," she bantered.

"Well, I'm up for it," Matthew said; "lead the way."

"Why don't _you_ lead for once?" she teased.

Matthew shook his head, still smiling. "I'm just a rookie," he said; "yesterday was the first time I've ever done anything sinister."

"Well, you'll have to learn fast," Izzy said; "if you can't keep up, you should quit now."

"I _want_ to learn," he told her. "Teach me. Show me how it's done."

She gave him her evil, sexy grin. "All right," she purred; "come with me."

"Right behind you," he said, and they walked down the street together.

o~X~o

Izzy wasn't used to someone working with her, _or_ following her as she went about her evil business…Or worrying about her…Or liking her for what she was…

She gave herself a mental shake. _It can't last,_ she reminded herself. _He's not you. Sooner or later, something you say or do will drive him off._

Why did that thought make her feel unhappy?

Getting frustrated with herself, Izzy decided to do everything in her power to get Matthew to realize that she wasn't someone he wanted to spend time with. She would _make_ him end it, before she got hurt…as she inevitably would, if their partnership lasted.

"Where are we going?" Matthew asked her.

She turned to him and smiled as wickedly as she could. "To find someone to steal a car from," she replied, working hard to let all her evil show.

"We've passed a few," Matthew pointed out.

"Oh, what fun is stealing something if there's no one there to see you do it?" she asked sinisterly. "We're going to take a car someone's _in_…and kill them, just for fun." The very thought aroused her, and she deliberately let it show.

He smiled. "You're the expert," he said.

_What?_ How could he still follow her? Did he think she was joking?

_I'll show him,_ she thought determinedly.

She thought as they walked through the silent streets.

"By the way," she finally said nastily, "your bombing time was _perfect_. I was expecting you to detonate it when there was just a crowd, but you waited until the perfect time for maximum casualties. The very moment I thought '_now_', you set it off. I couldn't have done it worse myself." She laughed evilly.

He smiled at her. "I did try," he said. "Did I impress you?"

_Yes._ "Don't push it, baby," she said mockingly - she would _never_ admit that she had been impressed.

Suddenly, a car rolled into view. Someone was driving down the street, very slowly.

Izzy smiled nastily, her eyes locked on her target. "Here we go," she said. _Time to go nuts,_ she thought - she wouldn't hold anything back.

She turned to Matthew. "A little help, baby?" she asked him teasingly.

He smiled at her. "Tell me what to do," he said.

She motioned to the car. "Stop them," she said. "Find out how many people are inside, and let me know as discretely as you can."

"Is that all?" he asked, walking forward.

She smiled nastily and waited.

Apparently whoever was driving the car was a good samaritan, because all Matthew had to do was walk out into the street and approach the vehicle, and it stopped.

Izzy watched Matthew tap on the window. It rolled down. Matthew said something Izzy couldn't quite hear to the driver. She couldn't make out the response, either, but based on the cadence, she guessed the driver was speaking Arabic.

Matthew held out one hand slightly in her direction, extending only his index finger. _One occupant._ However, he clearly didn't speak Arabic; his tone of voice as he replied to whatever the driver had said was confused. _You're an ex-Marine in Chad, and you don't know Arabic?_ Izzy thought. _Why are you even here?_

She smiled; showing off never hurt.

Metaphorically speaking.

She walked up to them. "Excuse me," she said in Arabic.

"Who are you?" she heard the driver ask.

She smiled and walked up to the open window.

"Pardon my friend, he doesn't speak Arabic," she said, motioning to Matthew, who was staring at her with surprise. _That's right, baby,_ she thought; _I'm multilingual. Name a language, and I can speak it._

"How can I help you?" asked the man driving the car.

She smiled evilly at him. "Give us your car," she said.

The man blinked. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that," he said; "tell me where you want to go and I'll drive you there, though."

Izzy chuckled nastily. "We don't care where we're going," she told the man; "we just want to have fun." She turned to Matthew. "Help me out here, baby," she said in English, putting a hand to her gun.

Matthew smiled and nodded.

Izzy put her left hand on the car door, her right hand grasping the gun she had tucked in the back of her pants. "We're going to turn you into roadside art," she told the driver in Arabic.

His eyes widened, but before he could react, Izzy opened the car door and pulled out her gun. The idiot hadn't locked his door, so he was exposed and defenseless. He tried to hit the gas, but Izzy pulled out her gun and shot him in his right leg.

"Help me with him!" she called to Matthew in English. "Let's tear him apart!"

Matthew needed no further encouragement. He stepped forward and started wrestling with the guy, beating him heavily. Izzy took a small step back and watched. Matthew was ruthless, even punching the guy's bullet wound sometimes, as he roughly dragged the man out of the car. Izzy moaned with pleasure as the man screamed with pain and fear.

This was what she lived for.

"Wanna join me?" Matthew asked her as he threw the guy to the ground and started kicking him.

She tossed their bags in the back of the car, then rejoined him. "My pleasure," she said huskily with an evil grin.

They started beating the guy up together. He bruised and bled and screamed for mercy beautifully. Izzy was careful not to cause any fatal damage, but quickly became concerned with Matthew, who seemed intent on beating the man to death. Of course, it was hard to think about keeping him under control when she was dangerously close to getting off…

Finally, when Matthew raised his foot to stomp on the man's neck, Izzy was forced to push him and gasp, "No!"

He blinked, his brow furrowed.

"That's not how it's done," she said, breathing heavily from the intense pleasure that torturing and killing brought her. "Let me show you how to do this."

She took a step back, raised her gun, aimed…

"Why are you doing this to _me_?" the man panted in Arabic, tears streaming from his eyes.

Izzy laughed. "Wrong place, wrong time," she replied, and she shot the man in the stomach. It wasn't quite enough to bring on her release, but it was very close.

She turned to Matthew. "Come on," she gasped in English, motioning to the car. "Get in - let's go!"

"We're just going to leave him here _alive_?" Matthew asked.

"Oh, he'll die," Izzy assured him; "very slowly and painfully, he'll die." She took a few breaths as pleasure pulsated through her body. "I think you'll have to drive," she told him.

"Need help getting in?" he asked her.

She shook her head, stumbled around to the passenger side, got in, and sat down, breathing hard. _So good…_

She shut the door as Matthew got in the driver's seat, shakily put on her seatbelt, and then just sat back and reveled in the pleasure she was feeling. She deliberately didn't hide it - Matthew had to understand what she was.

Matthew drove a little ways, then stopped.

Izzy blinked at him.

He smiled. "Let me just do one last thing," he said, and before Izzy had a chance to think, Matthew turned the car around, drove back at the man, and deliberately ran over the man's legs - not a fatal injury, but definitely very painful.

Izzy's head snapped back, and she cried out with ecstasy as she came. The climax was so intense, it was a whole minute before she could think again.

At last, the pleasure subsided enough that she could breathe. "That was _amazing_," she moaned - forgetting, momentarily, that there was someone there to hear her.

There was a pause for a moment. Then Matthew said, "_You're_ amazing."

She blinked and sat up, staring at him. He glanced over at her and smiled. _Smiled_!

That made her feel…something…something she had never felt before…something she couldn't identify…

"I've…never been called _that_ before," she finally managed.

"Not even in bed?" he teased.

She chuckled. "Most men I spend time with tend to die very shortly after I meet them," she said. "In fact, I think you're the first one to last more than a few hours."

"Well, I'm honored," he said. He sounded like he meant it.

Izzy was speechless. How could he like her?

"So where are we going?" he asked her casually, as though they hadn't just brutally murdered someone and she hadn't just gotten off on it.

"You pick," she said; "I don't care, as long as there are people to kill."

He laughed, but not as though he thought she was joking.

They drove in silence for the rest of the night, but it wasn't awkward. Izzy took the time to wonder…How could this be? How could Matthew still like her? Why did it seem as though he liked her _because_ she was so evil?

And what was it she had felt when he had called her amazing?

o~X~o

Matthew couldn't stop glancing over at Izzy as he drove. She was so incredible…so beautiful…She was everything he wanted to be…

The way she had attacked that guy had been _amazing_…and she knew how to brutally kill, that was for sure! She had _stopped_ him from killing the guy too fast, and the way she had finished it was masterful; a gutshot was fatal, but not immediately so.

And he'd added his own touch to the kill, too.

And she had gotten off on it. Explosively, from the look and sound of things.

That made him feel very turned on himself.

He wanted her. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted to park the car in some dark, secluded spot, get in back with her, tear both of their clothes off, and work her until she came again - and again and again - and him along with her.

But he wouldn't. He respected her. He _loved_ her. He would leave it to her to start things, when she felt the time was right. It probably wouldn't be long…

…Not that that helped with the painful hard-on that was tenting his pants.


	4. Enigma

They travelled together for a couple of days, nonstop. They alternated positions every now and then - while one drove, the other slept. Izzy, as it turned out, could sleep any time, anywhere, at will - she had complete control over her body.

Yet another thing that made her amazing in Matthew's eyes.

Of course, this also meant that they didn't get to talk much. Apart from when they swapped places and the occasional word about where they were going, the two days passed silently.

Finally, around noon on the third day, when they were switching places, Izzy said, "I'm bored. Let's just stop at the next place we find and blow someone up."

"Only one person?" Matthew teased.

She laughed. "Nah," she replied; "the more the merrier, right?"

He laughed, too. Then, he decided to ask her something he'd been wondering.

"Hey, Izzy?" he asked.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning to face him.

"How are you so comfortable with this?" he asked her.

She smiled nastily. "What do you mean?" she asked mockingly.

"I mean…" He took a second to figure out how to put his feelings into words. "Well, society teaches us from birth that we should obey the law, and that killing is wrong, and things like that," he finally said. "I don't believe in all that now, but it's been imprinted on me so well that…well, without you, I wouldn't have the nerve to kill people or blow up public places or anything like that myself; not because I don't _want_ to - I do - but because I've just been brainwashed by society. _Everyone_ gets brainwashed by society. So…how is it that you're not affected by that?"

This time, it was a whole minute before Izzy was able to rebury the pain his words caused her. He knew she was hoping he didn't notice, but how could he not? It was so obvious…

"I doubt we've had the same upbringing," she finally said coldly.

He sighed. "What's going on with you, Izzy?" he asked her. "I _know_ there's something you're not telling me - something that hurts you-"

"I told you not to expect me to tell you my life story!" she snapped defensively. "My life is none of your business!"

"But-"

"If you value _your_ life," she snarled softly, stepping closer to get right in his face, "do _not_ push me."

He blinked. "Okay," he said; "I won't push you. I just want you to know that you can talk to me."

She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and got in the back of the car without another word.

Matthew sighed again. He'd blown up a train station for her, and she still didn't trust him? What did he have to do?

Deciding that only time would tell, he got in the driver's seat without saying anything more, and they started moving again.

~X~

Time passed. Izzy and Matthew bombed places, killed people, and when they ran out of money, Izzy would rob a bank, with Matthew posing as a civilian to keep an eye on things…and she would always kill someone on the side just for fun. Matthew learned a lot from her, and his inhibitions quickly started to fall away. He strived to be like her. She called him "hotshot", and she always did so in a very sexy tone of voice.

When they traveled, they were together 24/7. When they settled down someplace or other for a few days, though, they always spent their nights apart - Matthew in a hotel, Izzy somewhere out on the streets. Matthew never stopped worrying about her when this happened, and deliberately tried to make sure they stayed in low-risk areas for her sake.

As time went on, absolutely nothing happened between them.

Absolutely. Nothing.

They didn't kiss, didn't hug, didn't hold hands - they never touched at all, in _any_ way. Matthew was mindful of the time he had grabbed her arm - of the dangerous look in her eyes that had shouted _Get your hand off me right now or you're a dead man!_ He didn't push anything. In fact, he was careful to _not_ touch her; surely, she would initiate something at some point.

But two months passed, and she didn't. Matthew started to seriously wonder if she was as much of a slut as she always seemed to imply. He even started to feel like she was _deliberately_ tormenting him with her outrageous flirting that absolutely refused to actually _go_ _somewhere_.

Finally, when they parted one night, Matthew gave in to his frustration.

"Izzy!" he called after her.

She turned around and gave him that sexy, evil smile that was even starting to torment him in his dreams. "Yeah?" she asked.

He swallowed, working up the nerve to say something. What _could_ he say, anyway? She had warned him not to push her…

Before he even knew what he was doing, he said, "You're beautiful."

She smiled nastily. "How would _you_ know?" she taunted. "You don't even know what I really look like!"

He blinked. "What?" he asked, completely thrown for a loop.

She smiled mockingly and walked back over to him. "You can't tell?" she asked.

"Tell what?" he asked, getting more and more confused.

Before he even had time to think, she reached out, took his hand, and lifted it to the side of her head.

Matthew smiled and stroked her hair.

Izzy sighed and rolled her eyes, then took hold of specifically his index finger and ran it over a specific spot on her hairline. At first, the touch of her hand on his kept him from understanding what she was trying to show him. After a few seconds, however, he began to notice something.

He ran his fingers over the space on her hairline. He felt something strange, like a ridge in her flesh…

He blinked. "You're wearing a wig?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled her evil smile. "Uh-huh," she said. "_And_…" She took hold of his index finger again and lightly scraped his fingernail across her cheek. When he took his hand back and looked, he noticed that a lump of makeup had accumulated under it.

He looked back up at her. She smiled.

"I don't go anywhere unarmed," she said, "and I don't go anywhere without a disguise. So you can't say I'm beautiful, because you don't know what I look like. You can only say my _disguise_ is beautiful, and that doesn't mean much."

Matthew's mind raced for a minute.

"Your eyes are the same, though, aren't they?" he finally asked, making it more of a statement than a question. "You're not wearing tinted lenses."

"No," she admitted, "I'm not."

He smiled. "Well then, at least I can say with certainty that your _eyes_ are beautiful," he told her.

"Oh, nice save, hotshot," she teased.

"Thanks," he teased back.

They smiled at each other for a minute.

"Goodnight, baby," Izzy finally said, and she turned and started walking away again.

"Hey, Izzy!" he called after her as he thought of something.

She turned back to him.

"Who are you hiding from?" he asked her.

There was no flash of pain in her eyes or expression this time; she just smiled.

"Everyone and no one," she replied cryptically, and she left.

Matthew stood where he was for a minute before going back to his hotel for the night, thinking that although he knew that they were alike, and that he loved her, he didn't know anything at all about who Izzy really was…

~X~

Another month passed. Even though nothing had really come of his advance, something was different between them. Matthew didn't feel quite the same need to be careful not to touch her, and they occasionally touched briefly every now and then, if mostly by accident. _Some_ barrier between them, however small, had come down. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

Finally, when they were about to part one night, Izzy spoke up.

"Do you know why I call you 'hotshot'?" she asked Matthew.

"Why?" he asked, smiling.

She smiled nastily back. "It's because you keep working so damn hard to impress me," she told him.

"And do I succeed?" he bantered.

Her smile turned sarcastic. "If you want to impress me, why do we keep ending up in small towns with minimum policing?" she asked. "It's getting boring."

"What would _you_ like to do?" Matthew asked.

"I want to do something _big_," she told him; "something that'll get us _noticed_. Let's go somewhere that _matters_ in the grand scheme of things and wreak havoc right under the noses of a _competent_ police force." She smiled wickedly. "Getting away is more fun when there's actually someone chasing you," she said.

Matthew grinned. "I _do_ like the sound of that," he said; "where are you thinking we should go?"

She chuckled nastily. "London," she replied.

Matthew blinked. "_London_?" he exclaimed.

She nodded, still smiling. "I have a little history there," she told him. "I know it's a big step up from what you're used to, but if you want to impress me, come tag along."

Matthew smiled. "I'd be happy to," he said; "on one condition."

Izzy raised an eyebrow at him. "You really think you're in a position to be naming terms?" she asked.

"It's as much for your sake as it is for mine, if not more so," he told her.

"I'm listening," she said.

He took a breath. "If we go wreak havoc in London, you're staying with _me_, not out on the streets," he told her.

She rolled her eyes.

"I don't mean _with_ _me_ with me," he told her; "I mean you're not going to be sleeping outside where you can get caught."

"Baby, I told you, if some idiot tries to mess with me, it's _their_ funeral," she said sassily.

"I'm not saying you can't take care of yourself," Matthew said, "but this wouldn't be a matter of a couple of cops or some random street thug - this would be an entire _squad_ of police cars, a deathtrap, and no one person could fight that off, not even you."

She rolled her eyes. "Baby, don't worry about me-" she began sarcastically.

"I _do_ worry about you, though," Matthew told her. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you were out on the streets in _London_ after we blew something up-"

"You'd really be _that_ upset if you never got to sleep with me?" she asked mockingly.

"Izzy, this isn't about wanting to have sex with you!" Matthew shouted, getting frustrated.

"Then what _is_ this about?" she countered.

"This is about the fact that _I_ _care_ _about_ _you_!" he yelled.

She blinked. There was silence for a second.

Then, she smiled mockingly.

"Why?" she asked.

It was Matthew's turn to blink. "What?" he asked.

"Why do you care about me?" she asked tauntingly.

Matthew blinked again. And again. "I…" He shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Izzy," he said.

She laughed softly. "That's what I thought," she sneered.

"_What_?" he asked, utterly bewildered.

"Oh, please," she said. "Did you _really_ think I'd fall for that? 'I care about you'…don't make me laugh!"

"Izzy, I _do_ care about you," Matthew said.

"No you don't," she scoffed.

"Yes, I do," he insisted.

"Look, just shut up, alright?" Izzy snapped. "I know you don't care about me, so just stop it."

"Why are you so sure I don't care about you?" Matthew asked, getting annoyed.

"Because you can't," she replied.

"And why not?" he countered.

A bit of the pain he knew she kept buried started to show in her eyes. "You just can't," she replied coldly.

He had never pushed her when he said something that reminded her of her pain before, but this time, he had no choice.

"Why not?" he asked seriously.

"Just because," she replied.

"Because why?" he demanded.

"Because!" she snapped, getting angry.

"Because _why_?" he repeated.

"_Because_!" she shouted, turning away from him.

"_Because why_?" he yelled, putting a hand on her arm to keep her from walking away.

"_Because no one ever has_!" she cried, turning back to him with angry tears in her eyes.

Matthew was shocked.

There was silence for a minute, save for Izzy's heavy breathing.

"There, happy now?" she finally asked, still tearful with anger. "You got something out of me. Good for you."

Matthew took a breath. "No," he replied calmly. "No, I'm not happy. As for no one having ever cared about you before…" He hesitated, thinking about what the most effective response would be, knowing that he could make or break his partnership with her right then and there depending on what he said. "Well, there's a first time for everything," he finished at last.

Izzy blinked, the anger in her eyes vanishing, and he knew he had said the right thing.

There was silence for another minute.

"Look, what are you so afraid of?" Matthew finally asked. "If I try anything on you, I'm a dead man, and we both know it. Whether you trust me or not, let me hide you from the cops. Again, I'll sleep on the floor - and before you ask how long, I mean _all_ _night_," he added firmly when she opened her mouth.

She hesitated…then sighed.

"Fine," she conceded, "I'll stay with you. But _I'll_ take the floor."

"Izzy, I-"

"Chivalry is dead, baby," she said mockingly, her evil smile returning.

"I don't mind," he insisted. "Really, you can take the bed."

"I'd rather not," she said, her face falling. "I'm…" She turned away so as to not meet his eyes - to try to hide her pain from him, he was certain. "I'm not comfortable in beds," she finally finished. "I'd rather sleep on the floor."

Matthew wanted to ask why. He wanted to know, very much, what was going on with her. But he knew he'd been taking a risk just pushing her as far as he had, and he didn't push her any further. "Okay," he said instead. "Deal. When do we leave?"

She blinked; obviously, she had been expecting more probing. He smiled at her reassuringly.

After a minute, she recovered and said, "Well, unless you've got somewhere to be, we might as well leave right now."

"I'll pack my things," Matthew said.


	5. More

Matthew was nervous when they got to London. After all, this wasn't some small town or village in Africa - this was the capital of one of the world's major superpowers. There were guards and police - competent ones. _Experienced_ ones. Ones that could catch them easily if they weren't careful.

Izzy seemed completely sure of herself. Of course, she had never shown any doubts about her passion. Still, this was a major step up from anything Matthew had ever done.

"Are you nervous?" Izzy taunted when everything was set, the very next night after they had decided to hit London.

Matthew was sweating. "Yes," he replied.

Izzy laughed at him. "I thought you were a Marine," she said mockingly.

"I was," Matthew said, "but that's _legal_!"

"It's basically the same thing, though," Izzy pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Just follow my lead, and we'll be dancing circles around the cops, don't you worry," she assured him, a vicious glint in her eye.

Matthew was so in awe of her that he forgot his nerves. He wanted to impress her. He wanted to _be_ her.

"Ready to go, hotshot?" she asked sexily, smiling her evil smile.

Matthew could only smile back. "Ready when you are," he replied.

"Three two one!" she said teasingly.

He pressed the button.

_Boom!_

_Always with the fantastic explosions,_ Matthew thought, watching the resulting chaos.

Izzy laughed softly beside him.

"Beautiful," she said with a predatory grin.

"Yeah," Matthew agreed. "Now, let's go before the first responders arrive."

"Oh, what would be the fun in that?" Izzy teased, still grinning wickedly. "I say we wait for them."

"_What_?" Matthew exclaimed.

"Wait for it…" she said under her breath.

Matthew stared at her. She wasn't afraid at all, even though he was about to panic. He wanted to run. But…he _couldn't_ back out - not in front of Izzy!

In the end, it was indecision that held him in place until the sound of sirens started blaring over the sounds of screams and chaos.

"Okay, they're here, now let's go!" he urged Izzy.

She smiled mockingly at him. "If we leave now, they won't know it was us who did this," she said.

"We don't _want_ them to know, do we?" Matthew exclaimed.

"Of course we do," Izzy replied. She smiled her evil smile. "I told you," she said huskily: "It's more fun to get away when there's someone chasing you."

Matthew blinked.

"Don't get cold feet on me _now_, hotshot," Izzy taunted. "It's time for you to see what this is _really_ about."

He wanted to impress her, or at least show that he could keep up. On the other hand, he knew that she was taking unnecessary risks, and if anything went wrong, they'd both be done for.

Again, it was indecision that kept him rooted to the spot as Izzy watched the scene hungrily. First responders came. Cops came. Ambulances and firetrucks came. It was almost like America.

"_Now_," Izzy finally hissed, and she ran…_towards_ the cops!

"Izzy, wait!" Matthew shouted.

"If you can't keep up, stay back!" she called over her shoulder as she pulled out her gun.

Matthew could only watch in amazement as Izzy called to a cop who was getting out of his vehicle. The cop stopped and turned, just in time for Izzy to shoot him in the gut, as she always did. Seconds later, she hijacked the vehicle and drove back over.

Matthew jumped in before he gave himself a chance for second thoughts. It took precious seconds, though, and cops were already converging on them.

"Hang on, baby!" Izzy said once he was in, and she sped away.

Matthew had never been in a high-speed chase before, but he knew how cops operated. They'd be driven into a roadblock. Izzy had waited too long. They were going to get caught!

And yet, Izzy was still confident. Matthew could only stare at her as she swerved through the streets, just avoiding cars, barely outracing the cops, and all with a smile of relish on her face. She laughed as her antics left car crashes in her wake. This was more than a bombing - this was a full-on assault against everyone unlucky enough to be outside!

And slowly, Matthew started to laugh with her.

It _was_ a thrill, spreading the chaos everywhere they went. He whooped every time a cop car crashed behind them. This was better than just attacking civilians. This was a slap in the government's face.

And Matthew liked it.

Eventually, Izzy managed to leave the cops behind. As soon as there was time, she looked over at him.

"Now for the grand finale," she said, grinning evilly.

Somehow, Matthew knew what she was going to do. "Right behind you," he told her, grinning back.

She laughed, then turned down an empty backroad near the hotel where they were going to stay. She hit the gas, speeding towards a stone wall. At the last minute, she opened the car door and rolled out - Matthew moved as soon as she did, and they just escaped getting smashed to pieces with the cop car as it hit the wall at full speed.

Matthew raised an arm to protect his face from flying debris. When he looked back, Izzy was already up and running, a shadow in the night. He stood, too, and ran after her. He had some bruises and scrapes from exiting the car, but the adrenaline pumping through his body made him able to ignore it.

Together, they ran for the hotel. It was late, so there was no one in the lobby to gawk at them. They kept running, too high on adrenaline to slow down even if they had wanted to, until finally, they were in their room.

"Woo!" Matthew whooped once they were safe.

For a minute, they both panted and laughed, smiling at each other with the pleasure of victory.

"Ha ha, did you see that?" Matthew finally asked Izzy, still laughing.

She smiled nastily. "I wanna do it again," she said.

"There's no reason we can't!" Matthew teased.

"Oh, baby, we're gonna have some fun in this city," Izzy said with a predatory grin.

"As always, I'm right behind you!" he told her.

Their smiles faded as they looked in each other's eyes. They were standing so close together - they were both right in front of the door. Their breathing started to deepen. They leaned towards each other…

And suddenly, they were kissing passionately, wrapping their arms around each other and squeezing tight. They gasped against each other's mouthes, as though trying to inhale each other, both making small sounds of pleasure.

_Finally!_ Matthew thought.

He pushed her against the wall, still kissing her with all his might. For someone who was virtually homeless, she tasted _really_ good - sweet and hot and delicious. His desire for her burned white-hot, searing pleasurably through his body…

He ran his hands down her sides to her hips, pressed his arousal against her-

And suddenly, he was on the floor, feeling as though he had been kneed in the groin and elbowed hard in the jaw (which he had).

"_Don't touch me_!" Izzy shrieked.

He shook his head, trying to understand what had just happened. He looked up at her…and froze.

She had her gun out and was aiming it at his head, both index fingers on the trigger. Her eyes were wild, her hands were shaking, and she was panting hard.

They stayed like that for a minute. Matthew didn't dare move a muscle; the look in Izzy's eyes was scary - it almost seemed like she wasn't really seeing what was in front of her. _The thousand-yard stare…_

Slowly, her breathing deepened, and the tension in her shoulders started to ease. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and lowered her gun. When she opened her eyes again, they were tearful and full of remorse.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding honest, as she put her gun away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…Are you okay?" She crouched down to be more at his eye level, reaching out a hand as though to touch his face, then stopping. "Did I hurt you?" she asked worriedly.

Matthew chuckled and rubbed his jaw where she had hit him. "A little bit," he said. "That's quite an elbow jab you have there."

"I'm so sorry," she said again. "I…I didn't mean to do that, I…Here, do you need a hand?" She stood up and held out a hand to help him up. After a moment, he took her hand, and she pulled him up.

"I'm sorry," she said again, almost timidly.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

She didn't seem to register that he wasn't mad. "I'm sorry, I…I'll go now," she stammered, and she opened the door and bolted.

"Izzy, wait!" he called, but before he had even finished speaking, she was gone, the door closing behind her.

He stood there for a minute, staring at the door in complete shock. _What just happened?_ he thought, bewildered.

Then, _Where was she going?_

He ran to the window and looked outside. Sure enough, Izzy was running down the street, away from the hotel.

"Damn it, Izzy!" he cursed under his breath, and he ran outside to chase after her.

o~X~o

Izzy ran through the night as fast as she could, trying to find a dark, blind alley to rest in. _Damn it,_ she thought, over and over again. _Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it…!_

Finally, she found a suitable spot. Almost gratefully, she sat down behind a dumpster, her back to the wall.

She took a moment to catch her breath. Then she glanced around to make sure she was alone, buried her face in her arms, and started crying.

_Stupid flashback._

It had been _years_ since she had given any thought to…_him_ - to her past, to her origins, to her former life. She had thought that it was behind her. She had thought that she was free. But when she had felt Matthew's arousal pressed against her…

Her scars twinged, and a shudder interrupted her sobs. No, she wasn't free. She would _never_ be free…

And _that_ was why she was crying. She wasn't crying because what had just happened meant she would never see Matthew again - after all, she had known it couldn't last. She wasn't crying because some part of her had _wanted_ to be with Matthew - they had been high on adrenaline, and she had been aroused by all the death and discord she had caused, and that was the only reason they had kissed; it had meant nothing whatsoever. And she _certainly_ wasn't crying because she had _ever_ thought, or even _hoped_, that she might have been able to _have_ something with Matthew…No, that was ridiculous. She didn't feel for him. She didn't feel for _anyone_. She _couldn't_ feel for anyone - she was a monster, and proud of it! Monsters don't feel…

So why couldn't she stop thinking about him?

"Izzy?"

Izzy jumped and looked up. There, as though her thoughts had conjured him, stood Matthew, looking at her with a concerned expression.

o~X~o

Matthew ran down the street in the direction Izzy had gone.

_Where could she have been going?_ he wondered. _Where would she stop?_

The safest place was probably a blind alley, so Matthew started keeping an eye out for them. He found one after a little ways. There didn't appear to be anyone there, and he was about to keep going, when he heard the sound of someone crying.

He hesitated. Izzy didn't cry. She was strong, and bold, and ruthless - she would _never_ cry, about anything.

_Not when anyone's around, at least…_ said a little voice in the back of Matthew's head.

Of course. She wouldn't cry in front of people - she worked hard for the image of some sort of ice monster. But deep down, she was only human, same as anyone else…

It was worth taking a look.

He walked down the alley, looked behind the dumpster…and there she was. Sure enough, she was crying.

"Izzy?" he asked softly.

She started and looked up at him. Almost instantly, her tears vanished, but Matthew knew better than to be fooled - if she could control when she slept, surely she could control when she cried.

She stood up.

"Are you okay?" Matthew asked her.

She blinked. "Am _I_ okay?" she repeated incredulously. "What do you mean, am _I_ okay? I almost _killed_ you!"

Matthew shrugged. "You didn't," he pointed out.

Izzy closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. "This whole thing was my fault. I led you on. You had no reason to think…" She broke off, shaking her head.

Matthew crossed his arms and waited.

She sighed again, then opened her eyes and met his gaze. "Look," she said, "the truth is, that whole sexy thing I do…it's just an act. I do it for control."

"Control?" Matthew repeated questioningly.

A humorless smile crossed Izzy's face. "If there's one thing I know, it's that men tend to think with their dicks," she said.

Matthew chuckled but nodded. "That _is_ true, I'll admit that," he said.

Izzy's smile faded. "Anyway," she went on. "Like I told you, pretty much every man I've ever met has died within the first few hours…by my hand, I'll admit. But what that means is, I've…never gotten as far with someone as…as I just did with you. In fact, the reality is, I…I've never had consensual sex in my life."

"_Consensual_," Matthew repeated, taking a step towards her.

Izzy flinched and turned away; she clearly hadn't meant to say that.

"You were raped," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it," she said coldly, turning back around to face him.

"Have you _ever_ talked about it?" he asked.

"No," she said flatly.

"Izzy, you should talk about it," Matthew said gently, reaching out a hand to comfort her.

She withdrew from him. "Why?" she asked coolly.

"You shouldn't hold it in!" Matthew replied. "At the very least, you should tell someone about it - I mean, whoever raped you-"

"Is dead," Izzy said firmly.

Matthew blinked. "What?" he asked.

"He's dead," Izzy repeated. "I killed him myself."

There was a brief pause.

"Did you make it hurt?" Matthew finally asked.

Izzy's predatory smile spread across her face again. "As much as I could," she replied with relish.

"Good," Matthew said.

Izzy nodded. "So you see, there's no reason for me to talk about it," she said.

Matthew shook his head. "You should talk about it for your _own_ sake," he said.

"What do you-?"

"Izzy," Matthew said gently, cutting her off and taking another step closer to her, "I know you're hurting. I haven't pushed you about it, but sometimes I've said something that's reminded you of something you always carry with you - something that hurts you deeply." He sighed. "All this trying to be like some sort of ice beast…that's all an act too, isn't it?" he asked softly. "Maybe it's even an act you try to convince _yourself_ of, because that's how you try to fight the pain. But you're hurting, Izzy, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"What happened to me is none of your business," Izzy snarled.

"Uh, you just flashed back to it and almost killed me," Matthew said; "I'd say it's become my business."

Izzy blinked.

Matthew smiled. "I was a Marine, remember?" he said. "I know a flashback when I see one."

Izzy blinked again, then shook her head. "Why do you even want to know?" she asked icily.

"Because if you let it out, it might hurt less," Matthew replied.

Izzy closed her eyes, and again, there was silence between them for a minute.

"I won't tell you what happened to me, because it's none of your business, and I don't want to relive it," she finally said tonelessly. "I will tell you this, though: A time came in my life when I had to choose between holding on to my humanity and dying or becoming a monster to save myself…and I chose to live. My 'ice beast' act, as you call it, isn't an act."

"But there's more to you than that," Matthew said. "Isn't there, Izzy?"

She opened her eyes again and met his, but said nothing. Still, the frozen armor she always had in her eyes had thinned, and Matthew thought he could see through to the hurt child underneath.

"Tell me this, at least," he said after a minute: "What's your real name?"

"What do you mean?" Izzy asked softly.

Matthew smiled at her. "I was a Marine," he reminded her again; "I know about PTSD. You changed your appearance to try to get away from the person who suffered…whatever it was that happened to you. It makes sense that you would have changed your name as well."

Izzy glared at him. "If I tell you," she hissed, "you have to promise to _never_ speak of it. You have to promise me that you will _never_ say it, no matter what, whether or not I'm there to hear you. You will never write it down, anywhere, ever, or in any other way express it anywhere in the world. Got it?"

"Okay," Matthew said gently; "I promise I won't express it, ever."

She closed her eyes. There was a pause.

"Jessica Reynolds," she finally said, almost too soft to hear.

He nodded but said nothing.

There was silence for a minute.

"Come on," he said at last; "we need to get back to the hotel before some cop drives by."

Izzy blinked, her eyes frozen once more. "What do you mean 'we'?" she asked.

"You're staying with me, remember?" Matthew reminded her with a smile.

She stared at him incredulously, then shook her head. "What the hell is the _matter_ with you?" she exclaimed.

Matthew blinked. "What?"

"I have tried everything I can think of - and now, even something I _didn't_ think of - to get you to realize that I'm not someone you want to be with, so why the hell are you still following me?" she demanded. "Don't you get it? I can't give you what you want!"

Matthew laughed. "What do you think I want?" he asked teasingly.

Izzy blinked. "Sex," she replied. "Friendship. Love, maybe."

Matthew smiled at her. "Well, those things would be nice," he admitted. "In fact, I would very much like to have any of those things with you. But none of those things are why I want to keep working with you. They're not what I want most."

"Then what _do_ you want most?" Izzy asked mockingly.

"I want to be like you," he replied.

She blinked again; and again, he smiled at her.

"Izzy, before we met, I was…trapped, in a very dark place," he began.

"Don't tell me I pulled you out of it!" she laughed cruelly.

He just kept smiling at her. "No, you didn't," he said. "What you did was give me the strength to accept it. I'm not trapped anymore - I'm content with where I am. You give me the courage to accept who I am, how I feel, what I'm capable of. I could never have had the nerve to set off bombs or murder random people if it wasn't for you - again, not because I never wanted to, but because I wouldn't be able to make myself do it, if I didn't have you with me." He held out his hand. "Come on, Izzy," he said; "let's get back inside before someone finds us. It hasn't even been an hour since we set off that bomb - we're lucky we haven't been arrested already, we've been outside for so long."

Izzy looked at his outstretched hand for a minute, her expression unreadable. Finally, she looked up at him and nodded.

"Okay," she said; "but we're not holding hands."

Matthew dropped his hand. "Fair enough," he said; "now let's get out of here."

They walked back towards the hotel together.

"By the way," Izzy said after a minute.

"Yes, Izzy?" Matthew asked.

She glanced over at him. "About that kiss…It never happened," she told him.

He chuckled. "Uh, I was there," he teased; "I'm pretty sure it happened."

"Look, we were both high on adrenaline, and I was turned on because there was a lot of chaos out there and a lot of people died," she said stonily; "it meant nothing. So let's just say it never happened."

Matthew decided not to argue; it had been a long night. "Okay," he said.

They went back inside, Matthew got in bed, Izzy laid down on the floor, and they went to sleep.


	6. Twisted

Izzy lay on the floor, awake.

Being indoors while she slept was…unusual for her, even if she wasn't in a bed. For that matter, lying down while she slept was…well, she had done it before, in the backseats of cars, but that was cramped. Having so much space was just…strange.

Of course, she could make herself shut down whenever she wanted. She _didn't_ want to, though. She needed the time to get her thoughts in order.

Matthew wasn't going to walk away from her. He followed her _because_ of who and what she was, and the only way to get him to leave would be to pretend to be something she wasn't…and he'd probably see through that anyway. She could count on him.

She had never been able to count on anyone before, except to hurt her. Matthew was…

"Izzy."

She started at the barely-audible sound of her name. She sat up and looked at Matthew.

"Izzy," he murmured, shifting around in his bed.

It took a lot of effort for her to suppress the urge to laugh. He was dreaming about her? _Men really _do_ think with their dicks,_ she thought; _Matthew is no exception._

Then he said something else:

"…not going to hurt you…"

Izzy blinked. If he was dreaming about her, it didn't sound like a wet dream. In fact…no one had ever said that to her before, not even in her own dreams…

She laid down again, more confused than ever. She listened hard to his sleep talk, but the only thing he ever said again was her name, over and over. Eventually she gave up and went to sleep.

The last thing she heard was his voice saying her name.

"Izzy…"

o~X~o

Matthew woke up well-rested. He remembered his dream and smiled.

_What an amazing dream…_

He got up.

"Oh, look," Izzy said almost instantly; "you're awake."

He chuckled. "How long have _you_ been awake?" he asked.

"About half an hour," she said with a mocking smile. She was sitting on the small sofa, her legs crossed. Her posture was both confident and mocking.

God, he loved her.

As he started to walk to the bathroom to wash up, she stood.

"Do you know you talk in your sleep?" she asked mockingly.

Matthew's gut clenched, but he managed to smile at her. "What did I say?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Mostly my name," she replied, smiling wickedly.

"Which name?" he asked, worried that he had broken his promise against his will.

"Oh, just my name," she said reassuringly. "You know - Izzy."

"Oh, good," he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Her mocking smile returned. "So?" she asked teasingly. "What were you dreaming about?"

He tried to match her teasing smile. "You," he replied.

"Uh-huh," she teased. "What about me?"

"Oh, I don't remember much," he said with mock evasiveness, and he resumed walking to the bathroom.

Then, suddenly, he stopped - he had a crazy urge to push things.

He turned back to her. "There is _one_ thing I remember, though," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You trusted me," he told her, allowing some of his bitterness to enter his tone.

She gave a mocking half-smile. "Liar," she said.

He blinked. "What?"

"You _mostly_ said my name," she told him, "but there was one other thing you said. Something about…you weren't going to hurt me? Why would you need to say that, if I trusted you in your dream?"

He made a split-second decision. "You know, now that you mention it, I do remember that part," he said. "Yeah…I said, 'Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you,' and you replied, 'I know. I trust you.'"

It was Izzy's turn to blink.

"You see?" he said, somewhat bitterly. "Clearly a dream."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't take it personally, baby," she said; "I don't trust _anyone_. Never have, never will."

"And why not?" Matthew challenged.

Pain flashed across her face for a moment, and Matthew winced internally. Of course. She had been raped. Someone had betrayed her. She didn't trust people because she was trying to protect herself.

Sure enough, she replied, "Well, why should I?"

He shook his head. "Never mind," he said; "I'm sorry."

"Hmm." She nodded mockingly. "So…what _were_ we doing in your dream that you felt the need to tell me you wouldn't hurt me?" she asked, back to being cruelly teasing.

He smiled. "Hey, I can't help what I dream," he said, throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Perv," she said nastily. "I thought sex wasn't what you wanted."

"It's not what I want _most_," Matthew corrected her; "I never said I didn't want it at _all_. In fact, I think I recall admitting that I _did_ want it."

"Well, _keep_ dreaming, baby, because it's not gonna happen," Izzy said.

He gave a long-suffering sigh. "I know," he said. "That's fine." He gave her a nasty smile of his own. "Maybe I'll just get it out of my system while I'm in the shower…"

Her jaw dropped, and she laughed. "I'm glad I already took a shower myself," she said.

"You did?" he asked, surprised.

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I sleep outside and don't live anywhere in particular doesn't mean I don't have a sense of hygiene," she told him.

"Guess that explains why you taste so good," he teased.

Her expression darkened. "I thought we agreed that that never happened," she said coldly.

He threw his hands up in surrender again. "Whatever you say, sweetheart," he said, and he walked to the bathroom.

"Hey!" she called after him.

He turned back to her. She was glaring lethally at him.

"The next time you call me 'sweetheart', it'll be the last word you ever say," she told him dangerously.

"_Okay_," he said, holding out his hands in a 'calm down' gesture, and finally, he went into the bathroom.

Izzy hadn't lied; she really _had_ taken a shower - the shower floor was still wet. _She's pretty good at putting on that disguise,_ he thought; she hadn't looked at all different from the way she had the previous day.

He got undressed - he had gone to bed in his clothes, for Izzy's sake - and took a shower himself. He actually seriously contemplated pleasuring himself, but ultimately decided against it. He _did_ think about her, though.

What had happened to her? He knew that a simple case of rape wasn't nearly enough to affect her so much - not that he thought rape wasn't traumatic, but Izzy's trauma went way too far for that to be all that she was carrying around. She had said that becoming evil had been the only way for her to save herself…Save herself from what? Death, obviously - she had said that much - but death under what circumstances?

Maybe it really _was_ none of his business, but it bothered him so much that she was hurting and there was nothing he could do about it. The absolute best part of his dream had been that he could make her happy. He wanted to make her pain go away. He wanted to make her happy.

But he couldn't. Not as long as she kept her heart closed to him.

_I'll just give her time,_ he decided once he was done in the bathroom. _But…_

He came out. Izzy was sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

"Where to now?" he asked her.

"Oh, let's stick around here for a couple of days," she said; "no need to leave in a hurry."

Matthew shook his head but didn't argue. "Okay," he said instead; "what should we do while we're here?"

"Let's just stick around and take a break," she said. "Watch the news…enjoy the panic and the speculation…" She chuckled. "They're probably going to start crying 'terrorism' or something…"

"Maybe we can talk while we're here?" he suggested.

Her expression darkened.

"You can trust me, Izzy," Matthew said. "I know something terrible happened to you, and I know it hurts you day and night, and I know that whatever it was makes you think you can't trust anyone or feel anything-"

"I _can't_ feel anything," she said coldly. "Monsters don't feel."

"Izzy, just because you're a sadist doesn't mean you're a psychopath," Matthew said.

Izzy closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Look, I'm not going to push this anymore," Matthew told her. "I'm just letting you know, if you ever feel like talking about it, I'm here for you. Okay, sweetheart?"

Her eyes snapped open, and she leapt to her feet. "What did I tell you about calling me 'sweetheart'?" she snarled, glaring at him.

Suddenly, Matthew got a crazy, insane, stupid idea.

"You said it would be the last word I ever said," he replied, imitating her mocking tone. "Which is funny, since I'm still talking."

"Do. Not. Push. Me," Izzy growled.

"Hey, I told you, I'm not pushing anything any further," he said, walking past her. He paused, then added, "Sweetheart."

He heard her move, and turned around to see her aiming her gun at him.

"I swear I'll do it," she said icily.

"Now, see, that's _twice_ I've called you 'sweetheart' since you gave me that warning," he said, still imitating her mocking tone of voice, "and you still haven't even hit me. Makes me wonder if y-"

The gunshot almost deafened him, and pain exploded in his left shoulder.

"_AAAGH_!" he cried out, falling to his knees.

"The next one will be in the gut," Izzy told him coldly.

He panted through gritted teeth, trying to get a handle on the pain. He looked up at her.

"There," he managed to say; "feel better now?"

She blinked.

He smiled at her, even though his shoulder throbbed. "I'm sorry," he said; "I couldn't think of anything else."

"You goaded me into shooting you to try to make me feel better?" Izzy asked incredulously, putting her gun away.

"Yep," Matthew replied, smiling at her again.

She shook her head. "You're an idiot," she told him matter-of-factly.

"I couldn't think of anything else," Matthew repeated, struggling to his feet. "Besides…it's okay. I can take it." He met her eyes. "I would do anything for you," he told her.

"You're really willing to try _that_ hard…?" Izzy asked softly.

"Yes," Matthew said. He grimaced for a moment as the pain in his shoulder throbbed, then said, "We need to leave now, though; we can't stay here."

"I thought you were up for a couple of days off," Izzy teased.

"I am," he told her, "but you just fired a gun. We're not on the streets, Izzy, we're in a hotel, surrounded by people. Someone heard you. We need to go."

Izzy blinked. "Oh," she said sheepishly.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to press charges," he said.

She laughed.

He looked at his wound. "Bullet's still in there," he muttered. He looked down at the blood that had dripped onto the floor. "The maid's going to have a bit of a mess to clean up." _This wasn't one of my brighter ideas,_ he admitted to himself.

Izzy laughed again. "Come on, baby, let's go," she said.

He smiled at her. "Right behind you," he said.

She grabbed her bag and headed to the door, then stopped.

"I have an idea," she said wickedly, turning back to him.

"Do tell," Matthew said, smiling back; "I _love_ it when you have an idea."

"I'll explain on the way," she said.

He grabbed his bag, and they left.

A woman was waiting right outside their door.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed when she saw Matthew's injury. "I thought I heard a gunshot and - What happened?"

Matthew smiled at her and shrugged. "Don't worry about it," he told her; "it's no big deal."

The woman blinked.

Izzy and Matthew laughed as they walked past the woman to the lobby.

"No big deal, hotshot?" Izzy teased. "Really?"

"Hey, I've seen worse," Matthew said. "Former Marine, remember?"

"You've _seen_ worse," Izzy repeated. "Did you ever actually get shot while you were in?"

"No," Matthew admitted.

She laughed. "The look on that woman's face was _priceless_," she said.

"It was," Matthew agreed. "Let's do it again when we check out."

"Right behind you," she teased.

At the checkout counter, Matthew walked up nonchalantly, like absolutely nothing unusual was going on, and asked to check out.

The woman behind the counter saw the bleeding gunshot wound in his shoulder and gasped.

"What happened?" she exclaimed.

Matthew shrugged and gestured to Izzy with his head. "Oh, she shot me," he said, sounding like he was talking about the weather. "No big deal."

"Sorry about the mess, though," Izzy added. "Bloodstains are hard to get out - I hope the maids can handle it."

The poor lady looked between Izzy and Matthew, wide-eyed.

"Look, we just want to check out," Matthew said, "that's all. Can we please do that?"

"I…" The woman continued looking between the two of them. She looked more than a little bit frightened.

Izzy and Matthew looked at each other and started laughing. The woman laughed nervously with them, which only made Izzy and Matthew laugh harder.

Naturally, Izzy was the one to get ahold of herself first. "Look," she said to the woman, "we just want to go now. Check us out, and you won't have to worry about us."

"And don't call the cops," Matthew added.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked him timidly.

He grinned. "Do I _look_ like I'm pressing charges?" he asked.

"Erm…No…" the woman said hesitantly.

Izzy and Matthew gave her the friendliest smiles they could muster as they checked out. As they left, Izzy playfully bumped Matthew's shoulder. Unfortunately, she hit his left shoulder, so he yelped involuntarily.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, turning to her.

"Oops," she said, smiling. "Sorry."

"Why you…!" He shoved at her playfully, smiling back. They giggled and shoved at each other a couple times, then Izzy ran out the doors, laughing, with Matthew chasing after her - the perfect image of a happy young couple.

Matthew knew that they were just role-playing to mess with the heads of anyone who might have been watching, but he enjoyed the fun…and tried not to hope too hard that someday, they might actually _be_ a happy couple.

~X~

They were still laughing as they got in their car.

"That was beautiful," Matthew said.

Izzy chuckled. "I don't know about _beautiful_, but it was definitely fun," she teased.

He smiled at her.

Her own smile turned mocking, and her eyes froze again. "Don't get any ideas, though," she said coldly.

He sighed. "I know," he said; "we were just role-playing to screw with everyone. I'm not stupid, Izzy."

She nodded and started the car.

"So, are you going to tell me about this idea of yours?" Matthew asked her.

She smiled wickedly. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, you have a gunshot wound in your shoulder," she said mockingly. "You might want to have that looked at."

"The wound's clean," he said dismissively; "I took a shower right before you shot me."

"Yes, but the bullet's still in there," Izzy said, her tone still mocking. "Now, we can't exactly go to a hospital, because then we'd have to fill out all kinds of forms and stuff…it would be too complicated."

"So what are you thinking?" Matthew asked.

She chuckled nastily. "Well, word on the street is that there was a bombing nearby last night," she said. "A lot of people got hurt - they had to send in a bunch of paramedics and EMTs. It was just last night, so a few of them should still be there. Maybe we could…_persuade_ one of them to help you out."

"And then kill them when we're done?" Matthew asked, a slightly wicked smile of his own crossing his face.

"_Now_ you're talking, hotshot," Izzy bantered, smiling her evil smile.

"Right behind you," Matthew said.

"You wanna be the one to pull the trigger this time?" Izzy offered.

He smiled at her. "No thanks," he said; "I don't get off on it like you do."

"Fair enough," she sighed with mock disappointment.

~X~

As it just so happened, there was only one ambulance left at the scene when Izzy and Matthew got there. The cops hadn't been given the all-clear to search for clues just yet, so the bomb site was otherwise abandoned. The lone EMT was just packing up the last of his equipment into the back of the ambulance when Izzy and Matthew started walking up to him.

"Hey!" Izzy shouted.

He turned to look at them.

"This is a restricted area," he told them. "You need to leave."

"Yeah, we know," Izzy said, not even slowing down; "we'll go soon, but right now we kinda need your help."

"Actually, _I_ need your help," Matthew piped up as they reached the EMT. "See?" He pointed to his bullet wound.

"What happened?" asked the EMT.

"Oh, she shot me," Matthew said casually, gesturing at Izzy with his head.

The EMT blinked.

"It's no big deal," Matthew assured the guy quickly; "I had it coming. But, ah…the bullet's still in there, so we were wondering if you could fix it up for me."

The man looked at Izzy, who gave him an evil smile. Then he turned back to Matthew.

"You should really…go to a hospital," he said hesitantly, clearly put off by the strange attitudes of the couple. "I'm not sure I can-"

In the blink of an eye, Izzy pulled out her gun and pointed it at the EMT. "Why don't you just see what you can do?" she suggested coolly. "That's your job, isn't it?"

The man's eyes widened. Izzy smiled wickedly at him, as did Matthew. "Please?" Matthew asked, slightly sarcastically.

"I…er…" The man looked between the two of them. "I'll, erm…see what I can do. Let me have a look."

Izzy kept her gun aimed at the man's head as he treated Matthew. The wound was already clean, and while the bullet had gone deep, it hadn't hit any major arteries. After he had been stitched up, Matthew stood.

"Thank you," he told the EMT. "Goodbye."

Izzy turned her aim to the man's stomach and fired.

Izzy and Matthew laughed as the man collapsed to the ground.

"Who are you people?" the EMT gasped.

Izzy gave him her evil smile. "We're the ones who bombed this place," she told him.

"Thanks again for your help," Matthew said wickedly, and he started walking away.

"Hey, hold on," Izzy said, grabbing Matthew's arm.

Matthew turned to her.

She gestured at the man she had just shot. "He's an EMT," she said; "he might be able to do something about that bullet in his gut."

"Do you really doubt your aim?" Matthew teased.

She chuckled nastily. "No," she said, "but we shouldn't take any chances." She held out her gun, handle-first, to Matthew. "Care to do the honors for a change?" she asked him.

Matthew blinked. While Izzy's tone was casual, something in her eyes told him that she wasn't just making an idle suggestion.

He smiled and took the gun. "Don't mind if I do," he said, and he shot the man in the head without a moment's hesitation.

Izzy laughed evilly. "Come on, hotshot," she said, taking her gun back; "let's go."

"Right behind you," Matthew said, as always, and they left.

o~X~o

Izzy drove with Matthew to the next hotel in silence. She was grateful that he didn't try to talk; she needed to ponder something strange that had happened.

She hadn't enjoyed shooting Matthew.

When he had cried out in pain - when he was first shot, when she had bumped his shoulder, and even when the EMT had taken the bullet out - she hadn't felt any of the thrill that causing people pain normally brought her. In fact, it had almost made her…_un_happy.

And that just wasn't normal for her. It had never happened before - _ever_!

Something about Matthew made him different from her victims. She wasn't quite sure what, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she didn't think of him the way she thought of every other human being in the world. She didn't think he deserved pain or death, like everyone else did. He was…special.

Though in what way, she couldn't begin to guess…


	7. Dark Bond

Time went on. The more time Izzy spent with Matthew, the less certain of herself she became. She actually _liked_ sharing her life with him. It was more fun than going it alone, and more and more so every day.

Bit by bit, she began to trust him. He was always "right behind her", up for anything she schemed, and he never pushed her about anything. He didn't try to make any moves on her, not even during the euphoric aftermath of a successful large-scale bombing. She even began to feel comfortable sleeping indoors, provided he was there - she tried staying in a separate room at one point, and found that she couldn't hardly sleep. There was just something about him that put her at ease…

Before she knew it, it had been one year to the day since they had met in Chad. The date fell in the middle of one of their cool-down times, so everything was peaceful between them.

They were in a hotel room high up in a glass-paneled skyscraper that night. Izzy stood at the window, looking out at the city lights, pondering how much her life had changed over the course of the last year. Weirdly, her cool-down periods had gotten _longer_ during the past few months, as though she didn't need to kill as much anymore…

Matthew walked up behind her.

"We met one year ago today," he said softly.

"Yeah," she murmured.

He sighed. "And you still don't trust me," he said. It wasn't a question.

She turned her head to look at him but said nothing.

He walked over to stand at the window beside her. He didn't look at her; he just stared out at the city.

There was silence between them for a minute.

"I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone else," Izzy finally told him softly.

He chuckled humorlessly. "I'm guessing that's not saying much," he said.

"Well, no," she admitted; "but…it's something."

There was another pause.

"How come you've never mentioned my real name since I told it to you?" she suddenly asked, turning her whole body to face him.

He turned to her and looked her in the eye. "Because I promised you I wouldn't," he answered.

She turned back, closed her eyes, and leaned her forehead against the glass.

"Izzy," Matthew pleaded softly, "talk to me."

"I _do_ talk to you," she said, not opening her eyes.

"Not about _yourself_, you don't," he said. "We've been wreaking havoc on the world together for a whole year, and I still don't even know you!"

"You know more than anyone ever has," she said stonily.

"That's not enough," he said. "I want to know you. I want to know…what happened to you."

She opened her eyes and straightened up, turning to glare at him. "Why?" she demanded.

"Because I know you're hurting, and I want to do what I can to make it stop," Matthew told her.

She blinked. There was nothing but honesty in his eyes. Honesty and…what was that? Kindness? No one else had ever looked at her with kindness, so she couldn't be sure…

"I can't do anything to make you stop hurting if you don't let me in," he went on gently.

"There's nothing you can do," she said tonelessly, turning back to look out the window. "There's nothing anyone can do. What's in the past is done."

"But it doesn't have to keep hurting you in the present," Matthew said.

Izzy said nothing.

"Please, Izzy, talk to me," Matthew coaxed her. "Let it out. It'll hurt less if you-"

"You want to know the worst thing that ever happened to me?" Izzy suddenly snarled, turning on him and glaring again.

He said nothing.

"I was _born_," she spat.

He still didn't say anything.

"I don't even know how or why," she went on angrily, turning back to the city. "I have no idea how I was even conceived. It never made any sense to me. I mean, my-" She stopped, closing her eyes. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this," she said coldly.

"Because you need to," Matthew said. "You need to let it out, you know you do. The more you try to hold it in, the more it's going to hurt."

"You think reliving it won't hurt me?" she demanded, turning on him again.

"No," he replied gently, "but I do think you'll feel better afterwards."

Izzy shook her head and turned back to the window without a word. She would never admit it, but if there was one person in the world she thought she might ever feel comfortable telling her story to, it was him. In fact…some small part of her _did_ want to tell him, to confide in him, to let him understand her. She wouldn't, though…

Matthew sighed. She heard him turn around and walk to the bed, then sit down on it.

"Izzy," he said.

She turned around. He was sitting on the bed, his arms held out to her.

"Come here," he said.

She rolled her eyes. Just when she had started to think-

"I don't mean like that," he said quickly. "I just mean…sit down. Just come over here and sit down."

She hesitated.

"Trust me, Izzy," Matthew pleaded softly.

Slowly, almost without her willing it, she walked over to him. He reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her down so that she was sitting sideways on his lap. Then he put his arms around her, rested his cheek on top of her head, and hugged her against him.

He didn't try to grope her or kiss her, and it wasn't a possessive gesture, either; he was just…holding her. She could feel that he wasn't aroused, and he didn't hug her too tightly - just tightly enough to be comfortable. No one had ever held her like that…

Gently, he lifted one hand and started stroking her hair. Even though he could only touch her wig, she could still feel the tenderness of his gesture…

And suddenly, she had an overwhelming urge to cry.

She clenched her fists, screwed her eyes shut, and gritted her teeth, pressing her face against his chest. Why was it suddenly so hard to suppress the urge to cry? She normally had complete control over herself…

"It's okay, Izzy," Matthew murmured to her. "You can cry if you want to. Go ahead and cry."

_"Cry for me, baby…"_

She stiffened and turned her head to glare up at Matthew. "Do you _want_ to see me cry?" she demanded angrily.

"No," he replied gently, meeting her eyes with that same mixture of honesty and kindness, "but I would rather you let it out than hold it in."

Izzy couldn't speak.

"You can cry if you need to, Izzy," Matthew told her. "Go ahead and let it out. I promise I won't think any less of you." He gently hugged her so that her face was against his chest again and resumed stroking her hair.

And before she even knew what she was doing, Izzy started crying.

"There you go," Matthew murmured soothingly. "It's okay. I'm here for you…"

Izzy buried her face in his chest, fisted her hands in his shirt, and sobbed so hard she could barely breathe. She couldn't stop herself. She was crying like a baby, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Matthew just kept murmuring soothing things to her - words she didn't even bother trying to understand - and holding her against him. Just the sound of his voice trying to comfort her, and the feel of his arms around her, was enough to make the pain bearable. She hated that she was showing weakness in front of him, but she just couldn't stop her tears…

It was a full ten minutes before she was able to get herself under control. She sniffed, forced her tears to stop flowing, and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I…"

"Don't be sorry," he told her gently. "It's good to let it out."

"It's _weak_," she said bitterly. "Crying in front of people means weakness."

"No, it doesn't," Matthew said. "I told you I wouldn't think any less of you, and I don't. You're human, Izzy. You shouldn't hold your feelings in - it's not healthy, and it'll only make your pain worse."

"That's saying a lot, coming from a _guy_," she said, trying and failing to sneer.

Matthew chuckled. "I've cried," he told her.

"With someone there to watch you?" Izzy challenged.

He sighed. "Not since I was a child," he admitted. "Then again, I'm not holding in a ton of pain, like I know you are."

Izzy closed her eyes and leaned against him.

"You can talk to me, Izzy," Matthew said. "I'm here for you. You're safe with me - you don't have to be afraid. I promise I'll understand-"

"You won't understand," Izzy said hollowly. "No one could possibly understand. You won't even believe me."

"I'll believe you, I promise," Matthew said, "and I will do my best to understand." He paused, then asked, "What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know," she said, realizing as she said it that it was true. "I just…don't want to talk about it or think about it."

"I know," Matthew said, "and I understand that. But you'll feel better if you tell someone."

Izzy said nothing.

"Come on, Izzy," Matthew coaxed; "share your pain with me. Let me take on some of it myself, so that you can feel better. Let me share your burden."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He wanted to suffer for her…?

"Tell me what happened to you, Izzy," Matthew said softly.

Izzy looked in his eyes…and found that she couldn't say no. She _wanted_ to tell him. No, she _needed_ to tell him.

"Okay," she whispered tearfully, leaning against him again. "Okay."


	8. Izzy's Story

~Heads up! If you've read "Storytime with Izzy", then you only know about two-thirds of the details given in this chapter. I really couldn't possibly have done worse.

~o~

"It's a really long story," Izzy told Matthew.

"That's okay," Matthew reassured her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," she whispered again. He could hear a hint of a sob in her voice.

"Take your time, now," he told her. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded against his chest. He heard her swallow hard.

She took a deep breath.

"Like I said, I don't know how or why I was conceived," she began. "I really don't. My parents didn't love each other. Hell, they _hated_ each other. All they ever did was fight. As for me…Well, I was just something for them to punish each other with - a responsibility for them to force on each other. I would wake up with one, be immediately shuttled to the other, and invariably, whichever one I ended up with immediately dropped me off to stay with my grandfather.

"Now, my grandfather was alone. He didn't have anyone to hurt. So, whenever I was with him…he hurt _me_." Izzy stopped, and Matthew felt her stiffen as she fought off tears.

"It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay."

She took a minute to get herself under control, then continued, "He was a surgeon. Well, he _had_ been a surgeon - naturally, he had retired by the time I was born, so he could spend all day with me." She said the last words with pained mockery, and Matthew hugged her a little tighter. "He knew about human anatomy, though," she went on, "so he always knew just how much he could hurt me without running the risk of killing me. He didn't want me to _die_ - if I died, he would have had no one to hurt. He just wanted me to suffer. He loved seeing me cry." She stopped to fight down her tears again.

"It's okay, Izzy," Matthew whispered to her. "Take your time."

It took her longer this time. Matthew got the sense that she was working up the strength to tell him the absolute worst thing that had ever happened to her, and he held her a little tighter, trying to give her the strength she needed.

Finally, she took a breath and said, "I was less than two years old when he started raping me."

"Izzy!" Matthew exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye. "That's impossible!"

Izzy's face contorted with anger. "You think I'm making it up?" she demanded furiously.

He blinked. "I-"

"I told you you wouldn't believe me," she snarled, and she tried to pull herself out of his arms.

"Hey, no, no, Izzy, wait!" Matthew said quickly, tightening his embrace. She struggled against him for a minute, but he didn't let go. "Izzy," he said, "I'm sorry. I don't think you're making it up. I just don't see how that's possible. Tell me."

She stopped squirming, and he loosened his grip.

She sighed. "I was in pain a lot, so I had to grow up fast," she explained bitterly. "My grandfather always hid my bruises with makeup-"

"Bruises?" Matthew repeated questioningly.

"He beat me, even as an infant, if relatively gently," Izzy said bitingly. "Like I said, he knew just how much he could hurt me without killing me, and he always went right to the limit."

"Oh, Izzy…" Matthew wrapped his arms all the way around her and held her close, as though trying to shield her from the blows she had suffered as a child.

"He always warned me not to let anyone know what he was doing to me," Izzy went on. "He always said that if anyone found out, he would hurt me worse. So I taught myself to control my tears, to hide my pain…and as soon as I was old enough to do that, he started raping me. It just so happened I was less than two years old at the time."

"But how is that possible?" Matthew asked in a whisper.

"It shouldn't be," Izzy said. "I was much too small for him to fit inside me, but he forced himself in anyway…and…well, something had to give."

Matthew gasped.

"He ripped me open," Izzy said. "The pain…you can't even imagine how painful it was. As if the ripping wasn't enough, he also beat me while he did it." She shuddered in his arms, and Matthew thought his heart would break. "Like I said, he was a surgeon, so he was always able to stitch me up when he was done - no anesthetic, of course," she added bitterly. "I guess he must have bandaged my injuries, too, so they wouldn't get infected while I was in diapers."

"Dear god, Izzy…" Matthew breathed, horrified.

"He always covered my bruises with makeup, and warned me to never tell anyone or he would hurt me worse," Izzy went on. "My parents might still have found out, if they had ever changed my diapers themselves, but of course, they never did - that was just another responsibility for them to try to force on each other and end up giving to my grandfather. They were always too busy fighting each other to even notice the blood, even though it was impossible to hide it completely.

"The rape always happened when my grandfather changed my diapers, until I grew out of them," Izzy continued, talking faster now. "He always removed the stitches to do it, then sewed me back up again when he was done. I shouldn't have survived - I still don't know how I did.

"No one ever suspected anything, and I was too afraid of him to tell anyone. Meanwhile, my parents eventually realized that they weren't successfully forcing me on each other - that they both just passed me off to my grandfather - so one day they decided they wouldn't even bother anymore. They dropped me off with him when I was about four…and never came back.

"My grandfather was given legal custody of me…and boy, did he ever love to remind me of it. My entire childhood, I was his slave. He was never 'grandfather' to me - I always, _always_ had to call him 'Master'. Of course, I was too young to understand the full significance of that word at first, but I knew it meant I had to obey him. Day in and day out, he reminded me that I was legally his. 'The law says you belong to me, sweetheart,'" Izzy quoted bitterly. "'According to the law, I own you. You have to obey the law. You have to do as I say.' I didn't really know what the law was at the time; all I knew was that if it said I had to be his slave, then I hated it." She looked up at Matthew, tears in her eyes. "You wanted to know how I wasn't brainwashed to instinctively want to obey the law," she whispered. "That's how."

"Oh, Izzy…" Matthew breathed, on the verge of tears himself. He put a hand on the back of her head and resumed stroking her hair as she leaned against him again.

"He raped me _every_…_single_…_night_," Izzy continued. "When I went to my room at night, he always came right in after me and raped me in my bed. Sometimes he even dragged me to my room during the day and raped me then as well. He _always_ beat me while he did it, too. He kept one hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream because he didn't want to run the risk of someone outside hearing me, and he would continuously beat me with his other hand."

"Izzy…"

"That's why I don't like sleeping in beds," Izzy told him. "I haven't slept in one since I got free of him, not really - cots, yes, but never a real bed." She shivered, and Matthew tightened his embrace, as though trying to keep her from shaking to pieces.

"Eventually I was big enough that he technically wouldn't have to rip me to get inside me," Izzy continued. "Once I was that old, he started leaving the stitches in. He was relatively gentle with the actual rape during that time, but he beat me a lot harder to compensate. He wanted my injuries to heal, you see - that way he could be even rougher with me and not have to worry about killing me. He never gave me any B.S. about loving me or not wanting to hurt me; no, he always let me know _exactly_ what he wanted from me. 'Cry for me, baby,'" she quoted, again bitterly. "'Cry for me, baby - I wanna see some tears!'"

"Izzy…" A tear of his own leaked from Matthew's eye, and he hugged her tightly. Unable to restrain himself, he kissed her on top of her head. She was too busy reliving her memories to notice, though.

"He was a loner, so we never had guests, which meant that I had a year or two to practice hiding my pain without any real risk of failing," she said. "He was…satisfied with my ability to hide it by the time I was old enough to go to school, so I started going to school at the same age as anyone else." She chuckled humorlessly. "You might think school was my safe haven, but it wasn't," she told Matthew; "whether I was in school or at home, I lived in fear of him, and everything I did was dictated by that fear. He always said that if anyone noticed _anything_ about what he was doing to me, then one night he would beat and rape me and not stop until after I was dead."

"My god…" Matthew shook his head, his chin pressed on top of her head. How could something like this even happen?

"I worked hard not to draw attention to myself," Izzy continued. "I worked hard to get precisely average grades, though I was careful not to make it _look_ like I was trying to be average. I even faked my IQ test so that it would match up with my grades."

"You faked your IQ test?" Matthew repeated, surprised.

She looked up at him. "Yeah," she said.

He shook his head in wonder. "Wow," he said. "You're…_scary_ smart."

"Thanks," she said, not smiling. She closed her eyes again and continued, "I only spoke when I was spoken to, I never volunteered in class - though I did what I was asked when I was called on anyway - and I didn't play with or talk to any of my classmates. A lot of them tried to approach me, but I completely shut myself off to them."

"That must have drawn _some_ attention to you, though," Matthew commented.

She chuckled, still mostly without humor. "Yeah, well, I was still a little too young to realize that," she said. "All of my teachers were concerned with my 'antisocial behavior', but I managed to avoid being forced to meet with councilors by turning my teachers' logic against them. I always pointed out how they always said that we should be proud of our differences and who we are, and I told them that not wanting to play or make friends was just part of who I was. I was always able to talk circles around them, and it wasn't too long before everyone gave up on me and accepted that I just preferred to be alone."

"In other words, you had no childhood," Matthew said softly.

Izzy nodded against his chest. "My grandfather took _everything_ from me," she said.

"Oh god, Izzy…"

"This went on for years," Izzy continued. "I spent every day, every hour, every minute, every _second_ of my life in mortal fear that I would do something to make my grandfather angry. I was grateful for every breath I took, that he was letting me take it. Early on I _tried_ to die of my injuries, but he was so careful not to let me die that I gave up before I was seven.

"Then, when I was ten years old, something inside of me started to change. The constant fear and pain started to make me stronger. I started teaching myself to turn my pain and fear into anger and hatred, and using it to drive myself forward, to make myself go on living. I was able to block out the pain of my grandfather's abuse - for the most part, at least. I taught myself how to make myself cry and scream convincingly, so for a little while, I cheated him of his game of torturing me to the edge of death." Izzy sighed. "Then, I hit puberty."

Matthew tensed; he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"It wasn't strange for blood to appear in my underwear, so I didn't think it meant anything significant," Izzy said. "The strange thing was that I didn't feel any extra pain. I didn't know if somehow one of my scars had ripped open again, or if some small tear in an artery had happened so that it looked a lot worse than it was, but I…well, naturally, I thought I'd use it to my advantage. When he raped me that night, I acted like he was aggravating a serious open wound inside me." Izzy stopped. Her whole body was tense, and Matthew knew she was working up the courage to relive another one of her worst memories. He hugged her tightly and kissed her on the forehead, hoping that, if he couldn't comfort her, then that he could at least distract her for a minute by making her angry.

She didn't react to his kiss, though. Instead, she took a deep, shaking breath, and went on, "Of course, _he_ knew what a period was, and he knew that the blood that was coming out of me was menstrual blood, not arterial blood…So, naturally, it followed that I was faking." She shuddered. "That was when he learned to stop relying on my reactions to his abuse to determine how badly he was hurting me," she whispered, and Matthew could hear the tears in her voice. "He started going by his knowledge of human anatomy alone…and that night, he punished me for cheating him like I had. I…" She shuddered again.

"It's okay, Izzy," Matthew whispered, trying to comfort her. "It's over now. You're safe here."

"I hadn't been in so much pain since I'd been a toddler," she whispered.

She paused for a minute. Matthew tried to hold her as comfortingly as he could.

After a minute, a bit of the tension in her body eased. "He started wearing a condom after that," she went on. "He didn't want anything to happen to announce to the world what he was doing to me. He never stopped raping me. He wasn't a pedophile per se - he wasn't abusing me because of my age. He did it to me because he could hurt me and get away with it; and the older I got, the rougher he was with me.

"Despite all that, though, I still continued to change after age ten. I turned cold inside, and I started to get stronger. I became more confident, and less afraid. I didn't know it at first, but I was slowly turning into a monster myself."

"How so?" Matthew asked, confused.

"I started hating everyone," Izzy answered.

Matthew blinked. "I don't understand…"

Izzy shifted slightly on his lap. "Here's the thing," she said: "The few times my grandfather _had_ to make a public appearance with me, he was always the image of the perfect legal guardian." Her tone started to turn bitter. "He always appeared to everyone else to be a loving, caring, doting grandfather…and of course, no one noticed the glares he shot at me to warn me that I had to play along. I _did_ play along. I acted like I _loved_ him, like I was _happy_ with him - even though I had never, for one second of my life, been anything close to happy." She shook her head. "_Everyone_ bought it," she said disgustedly. "No one ever suspected what he was, or that he was hurting me…So I started to wonder, How did I know that all the people who seemed nice weren't like that? If someone as cruel as him could seem nice in public, anyone could be hiding dark secrets."

_No wonder she still doesn't trust me,_ Matthew thought. _How could she ever trust _anyone_?_

"It got worse from there," Izzy went on. "I started to realize that everyone _was_ evil - no one is as good as they seem. Everyone acts like they're good and nice, but all of them are cruel deep down…and they all disgust me. The nicer someone acts, the more I hate them for pretending to be something they're not."

"What about me?" Matthew asked.

Izzy hesitated. "You're…different," she said. "You told me, the moment we met, that you enjoyed murder and mayhem - you admitted to being evil, right off the bat. You're honest about who you are."

"So are you," Matthew murmured. "That's one of the things I respect about you the most - that you don't try to justify what you do…what _we_ do. You admit it's evil."

Izzy nodded, then sighed. "I don't know how long it was before I realized that I didn't feel anything," she said, resuming her story. "Any of the people around me could hurt me, and none of them would save me. No one had ever cared about me in my entire life - why should I care if other people got hurt? I turned cold.

"I saw my grandfather in every friendly face - in everyone I met - but instead of making me afraid, it made me angry. I had started to automatically turn my fear into hatred, so I hated everyone around me. I still didn't draw attention to myself, though - I didn't want to die.

"Then, on my fifteenth birthday - my birthdays were never cause for celebration, mind you - I reminded my grandfather that in three years, I wouldn't belong to him anymore. I would be an adult, and the law wouldn't force me to stay with him any longer."

Izzy stopped. Matthew felt the tension in her body - not as though she was trying to fight back tears this time, but more like she was reliving something that made her feel very afraid.

"I remember he…gave me this look, for a long time - like what I had just said was the stupidest thing he had ever heard," she finally continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then, he…started laughing at me." She shuddered. "He said…'You really think I'm going to let you get away? I thought you knew me, girl. You'll belong to me until the day you die.' I started to say, 'No, I won't, because when I turn eighteen-', and he laughed at me again and said, 'Do you _honestly_ think I'm gonna let you live to see the day you go free? Your eighteenth birthday will be the last hour of your life.'"

Izzy trembled in Matthew's arms, and he tried to hold her tightly enough to stop her shaking. It was clear that she was truly reliving the memory - that she could see her grandfather's face, and hear his voice, in that moment, as though it was her fifteenth birthday all over again - and Matthew felt helpless.

"I have never been so afraid in my life as I was at that moment," Izzy said, her voice shaking like her body.

"Izzy…" Matthew racked his brains, trying to clear the haze of horror that was clouding his mind and think of something he could say that would comfort her. "He was wrong," Matthew said at last, wishing he could come up with something better. "You're here now. You're alive, well past your eighteenth birthday."

For a minute, Izzy said nothing. Matthew waited patiently, holding her tightly, trying to lend her strength through his touch and wishing he could do more.

"I was very scared," Izzy repeated at last. "Then I turned my fear into hatred, and suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I knew that, in order to survive, I had to become a monster myself. It wouldn't be hard - after all, _everyone_ is a monster, however deep down. I _did_ have to be careful, though; if he had any idea what I was planning - what I was turning into - he would kill me sooner, I knew."

"Izzy…"

"I stole a knife from the kitchen," Izzy said, talking faster now. "I hid it outside. He had to leave me home alone sometimes, and he knew I wouldn't try to run; whenever he was gone, I sharpened the knife with a rock." She chuckled humorlessly. "It wasn't easy - trying to sharpen steel with an ordinary rock is practically futile. It took months of hard work - six months, to be precise - but it worked. Finally, I was ready. I was going to fight my way out.

"I hid the knife under my pillow and waited until he came to me that night. The mere thought of hurting me was always enough for him to get it up, so he was already ready to go when he first pulled down his pants. I grabbed the knife and jumped at him, and before he knew what was happening, I cut his dick off, so he could never use it against me again!" Izzy paused to catch her breath; she had been talking very fast. Matthew was speechless.

"He screamed," she finally went on with relish. "Oh, how he screamed. He was surprised - I had given him what he wanted for so long, he had never thought I had it in me to fight back. I took a moment to let him think about what I had just done. He got over his surprise, and he lunged at me, shouting that he was going to kill me, but I wasn't afraid of him anymore, and I didn't hesitate - I stabbed him in the gut. When he flinched from the pain, I cut his abdomen open, right hip to left. I pulled the cut apart and started slashing at all the organs I could see. He was in too much pain to lift a finger in his own defense. He died, slowly and painfully, screaming all the way." Again she stopped, but this time it was almost as though she was taking time to _enjoy_ the memory.

"Good," Matthew managed to say.

She looked up at him questioningly.

"He deserved no less," Matthew said.

Izzy nodded, swallowed, and continued.

"As soon as he was dead, I felt something I had never felt before," she said: "_happiness_. I was free. He couldn't hurt me anymore. _No_ _one_ could hurt me anymore - I wouldn't let them. _I_ was the strong one. _I_ was the master!

"I washed the blood off - for the first time, not my own. I wiped the knife clean so there would be no fingerprints - and his dismembered dick, too, just to be safe-"

"Did you stuff it down his throat?" Matthew asked.

"Oh, I _should_ have," Izzy said, smiling at the thought. "I wish I'd thought of that! No, I didn't. _Damn_ _it_, I wish I'd thought of that…" She shook her head. "Anyway, I changed my clothes and put on makeup. All the years of hiding my bruises with makeup had given me a certain amount of expertise in its use, so I was able to disguise myself with it. I took some extra makeup with me, just in case, and then I left the house and ran. I ran, and ran, for two days straight - I made it all the way to a city several towns away. I found an orphanage there, and they took me in. That was when I renamed myself."

"How did you come up with 'Izzy Rogers'?" Matthew asked.

"My mother's name was Isabelle, and my father's name was Roger," Izzy answered. "They never did anything good for me directly, but they still managed to be of some use."

There was silence for a minute. Matthew was reeling from her story, and couldn't say anything more.

Then, Izzy sighed, almost remorsefully.

"I had thought that that would be the end of it," she said softly.

"Wasn't it?" Matthew asked her, surprised.

"Well, no one ever found me, so the ordeal with my _grandfather_ was over," Izzy said. "But…I had to pay the piper, as they say." She sighed again, and Matthew remembered that she had told him that she had had to choose between dying or becoming a monster to save herself.

"For a couple of years, I was fine," Izzy said. "I didn't trust anyone, and I hated everyone, but I was able to keep it to myself. Then, when I was old enough to legally be able to buy a gun…Well, you don't need a license in Ohio, you just have to be a certain age, so I started thinking about killing someone again. I…_wanted_ to. Part of me wanted the whole thing to be over, but…after I resisted the urge for a little while, I started hurting. My scars…they started burning, like they were being scrubbed with sandpaper, and somehow I knew that killing someone would make it stop. I didn't want to be in pain anymore…so I went and bought a gun. It wasn't hard to figure out how to use it, and I had naturally good aim. I waited a little while, unsure whether or not I could take the risk, but…when I decided that maybe I shouldn't do it, the pain suddenly got worse. It felt like my scars were being ripped open again, and the pain spread throughout my whole body. It was…" She shuddered. "I couldn't fight it. So I went outside, found some random person on the street, and shot them in the gut - the same place I had stabbed my grandfather. The pain stopped right away, and I relived the thrill I had felt that first moment after I had killed my grandfather. That was the night I discovered what I was meant to be: a monster. I don't know how long it was before I started actually _getting_ _off_ on killing people, but it wasn't long.

"I've never even _tried_ to resist my urge to kill since then. I don't _want_ to. This was what I had to become in order to survive, and I have no regrets. Everyone deserves to die anyway, going around pretending to be good - like there's even such a _thing_ as a good person," she scoffed contemptuously.

Matthew was silent.

"Sometimes I do wonder what it would be like, to not be a monster," Izzy admitted softly after a minute. "In reality, though, I know that I would only get hurt. My life is about pain - either I'm being hurt, or I'm the one hurting someone else. Besides, not being a monster would mean not seeing through everyone's pretend niceness, not knowing that everyone is evil. Ignorance may be bliss, but knowledge is power. I _am_ evil, but I use my evil to _fight_ evil - I may not have had a choice in what I did with my life, but I chose the right reasons for it."

Again, there was silence between them. This time, it seemed, Izzy really was done talking. Matthew was grateful for the silence; he needed time to process Izzy's story.

"I had no idea," he finally said softly. "I didn't know you'd been through so much. I didn't know a person could _survive_ an ordeal like that."

"I shouldn't have," Izzy said.

Matthew sighed. "Izzy…you're not a monster," he told her.

"Yes, I am," she said. "I'm okay with it, don't worry. It's fine."

"You're not a monster," Matthew repeated firmly, pulling back slightly and putting his finger under her chin, tilting her head so that she had to meet his eyes. "You've been through so much pain that you make yourself stop feeling to protect yourself, but underneath all that, you're human. If you weren't human, you wouldn't have cried just a little while ago."

Izzy closed her eyes.

"You're just as capable of feeling as anyone else," Matthew went on.

"I'm a sadist," she said flatly.

"That doesn't make you a psychopath," Matthew argued gently.

She said nothing, pressing her face against his chest again. He hugged her and stroked her fake hair, and they sat there in silence for a minute.

"Do you feel better?" Matthew finally asked.

Izzy chuckled. "A bit," she admitted. "In a…weird way."

Matthew sighed. "I can't begin to imagine how painful it must have been," he said softly. "I can never fully understand what you went through."

"I told you," Izzy said.

"Yes, you did," Matthew agreed, "and you were right. But what I _do_ understand both breaks my heart…and leaves me that much more in awe of you."

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him again.

"You are the most amazing person I have ever met, Izzy," Matthew told her. "You're incredibly strong and smart…you're a survivor. I don't think I could have survived what you went through-"

"I didn't have a choice in the matter," Izzy said. "He didn't _let_ me die."

"I wouldn't have been able to fight my way free like you did, though," Matthew said. "I would have broken, if I had been in a situation like that. You…amaze me." He smiled at her. "I always knew you were the most amazing person I had ever met, but I didn't know how much so," he told her.

They looked into each other's eyes for a minute. Matthew wanted to lean his head down and kiss her, but he didn't.

"That time in London…" she finally said.

He nodded. "You flashed back to what your grandfather did to you," he said.

"I felt your hard-on, and…" She shivered. "I…I really didn't mean to attack you like that," she told him. "I didn't know that would happen. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Matthew told her. "I understand. I know about flashbacks." He smiled at her. "Former Marine, remember?" he teased.

She couldn't help but smile back. "Like I could ever forget," she said.

He nodded, and they were both silent again. Matthew felt like he was lost in her hazel eyes…

"Izzy," he breathed, "I…"

"Matthew," she said softly, lifting one hand to cup his cheek.

He blinked. "You haven't called me that since the day we blew up that train station a year ago," he said breathlessly.

She smiled. "Yeah, well, I…" She trailed off, looking deep into his eyes.

Slowly, very slowly, they brought their faces closer together. They closed their eyes, and their lips met. The kiss was soft, and gentle - not at all like the mindless passion of the first time. It didn't _need_ to be mindless or forceful. It meant so much more…

They broke apart after a minute, but they only pulled away slightly.

"Did _that_ happen?" Matthew asked Izzy softly.

She smiled. "Yes," she whispered; "that happened."

They kissed again, not much harder. This time, though, they didn't break apart. Neither of them was quite sure what they were trying to express, but neither of them wanted to stop.

Slowly, the kiss deepened. Izzy's arms came up and wrapped around Matthew's head, and he held one hand against the back of her head, his other arm around her. Their mouthes opened against each other, and they kissed passionately - but still not mindlessly like they had nine months earlier. This _meant_ something.

Matthew wanted, so much, to make her happy. He wanted to kiss all her pain away, make her forget all her trauma. He wanted to be closer to her, so much closer, close enough that he could fight off all the demons in her mind…

It wasn't until he felt her stiffen in his arms that he realized he was getting aroused.

He broke away. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, stamping on his arousal. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Izzy said softly; "you can't help it."

He sighed. "Izzy…" He hesitated, trying to figure out how to properly phrase what he wanted to say. "I won't hurt you," he said at last.

She chuckled. "You really don't know when it's a bad time to hit on a girl, do-?"

"Stop," Matthew said firmly. "Stop it, Izzy." He sighed again. "I understand that you lash out like this to protect yourself, but I'm starting to get offended," he told her. "Do I want to make love to you? Yes. Do I want to make love to you when you're hurting and scared and traumatized and just plain don't want to? No. _Hell_ no. So stop reacting like everything I say is an attempt to seduce you."

Izzy closed her eyes.

"No, Izzy," Matthew said; "look at me."

She looked at him again.

"I will _never_ touch you against your will," he avowed. "_Never_. You don't need to be afraid of me. And I will never, _ever_, hurt you. I will _protect_ you. _Nothing_ will ever hurt you as long as I have anything to say about it. I'm here for you, Izzy."

"I can take care of myself," she said softly.

"I know you can," Matthew said. He smiled. "Like I said, you're a survivor, and I cannot express in words how much I respect your strength. But whenever there's something you can't fight off on your own, I will always be right there for you. If you need to talk to someone, I'll be there. If you need someone to watch your back, I'll be there. I will _always_ be here for you, Izzy, no matter what happens or what you might need. I promise."

Even in the dim light, Matthew couldn't miss the tears that welled in her eyes. Now that he knew that literally no one had ever been there for her before they had met, he understood just how emotional his words must be making her feel.

"You don't have to be alone anymore, Izzy," he told her softly. "I'm here now, and I will never leave you."

She buried her face in his chest again and started quietly weeping. He hugged her tightly and stroked her hair again, as she cried out all the loneliness she hadn't known she'd always carried in her heart.


	9. Closer

Matthew woke up the next morning just as Izzy came out of the bathroom. He got up and smiled at her.

"Good morning," he said.

She smiled back. "Good morning," she said.

They walked over to each other and kissed, as though they had always done it. When they broke apart, she wrinkled her nose.

"Ugh," she said. "Go brush your teeth."

He laughed, and so did she. Everything had changed between them. They weren't lovers, but they had gone from partners in crime to…_something_ more than friends in the space of one night.

And it felt perfectly natural to both of them.

"How did you sleep?" Matthew asked Izzy.

"Great," she replied. "You?"

"Well, I didn't have any nightmares," he said with a shrug.

She laughed, then stopped quickly.

He smiled at her. "Did I just make you laugh about your past?" he asked her.

She blinked. "I think you did," she said, sounding surprised.

He hugged her. "Mission accomplished," he muttered in her ear.

She laughed and hugged him back. "Thank you," she whispered.

"My pleasure," he said.

She chuckled. He kissed her on the forehead, then stepped out of her embrace and went into the bathroom to wash up.

When he came back out, she was sitting on the bed, her legs crossed, waiting for him.

"So what happens now?" he asked her.

She gave him her evil, sexy smile. "I don't see why anything has to change," she said teasingly.

He smiled back at her. "_Everything's_ changed, Izzy, and you know it," he said.

She shrugged. "That doesn't mean our _plans_ have to change." Her smile got a bit nastier, and she added in a very sexy tone of voice, "Don't tell me you suddenly want to retire, hotshot?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "You're cruel, you know that?" he asked her.

She laughed wickedly. "I'm _proud_ of it, baby," she replied.

He smiled at her. "I mean, you're a _tease_," he clarified. "You know you don't have to keep pulling your sexy act on me, don't you?"

She shrugged. "Old habits die hard," she said in a voice that was both nonchalant and sexy.

"Damn you, Izzy," he said, smiling a bit wider to show that he wasn't really mad. "You get so defensive with me for wanting to make love to you, and then you go and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she interrupted, holding out her hands in a 'stop' gesture, "hold on. 'Make love'?"

Matthew blinked. "Yes," he said.

She looked at him for a long minute, her expression unreadable. Then, she sighed.

"Look, Matthew," she said, standing up, "you are the first person I have ever trusted in my life. I enjoy sharing my life with you. And if - _if_ - I ever decide that I want to have consensual sex, it _will_ be with you." She shook her head, not breaking eye contact with him. "But don't start talking about love," she told him, a bit of sadness in her eyes. "Whatever there is or will be between us, it will _never_ be love. I will _never_ love you." She blinked, and Matthew could see the film of tears that coated her eyes. "I can't."

He sighed, then stepped closer to her and cradled her face in his hands. "I don't care if you never _do_ love me," he told her, "but don't tell me you never _can_. You're a human being, Izzy - you're just as capable of love as anyone else."

"No, I'm not," she said, gently but firmly. "I'm a monster. Monsters don't love."

"You're not a monster, Izzy," Matthew insisted.

"It's sweet of you to say that, but I am," Izzy stated. She smiled, but the expression didn't quite meet her eyes. "I'm okay with it, don't worry," she told him.

"I can't help but wonder how honest you're being with yourself when you say that," Matthew commented.

She chuckled. "I'm honest with myself, you know that," she said. She smiled nastily and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Besides," she said, "we'll probably never get that far anyway. I mean, I get off on murder and chaos - that's all the sex I need."

Matthew put his arms around her in turn. "Are you sure about that?" he asked her softly. He didn't mean it as a come-on, nor did he mean it as a taunt; he was sincerely asking her - and he could see in her eyes that she understood.

She swallowed but said nothing.

He hugged her against him, and she hugged him back. He didn't try to make a move on her - he had promised her he wouldn't; besides which, now that he understood _why_ she didn't want to be touched, the very idea of trying to pressure her repulsed him.

"Not really," she finally replied; Matthew heard a bit of pain in her voice.

"Well, take your time," he told her gently. "I'll wait as long as you need me to."

"Thanks," she said softly.

They stayed like that for a minute. Then, Matthew thought of something.

"I will say this, though," he said.

She pulled back and looked at him.

"I'll only say this, and then I'll never mention it again unless you do," he told her: "If you ever decide that you're ready - and it's okay if you never do, but _if_ you do - then I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you enjoy it. I won't let it hurt, not even for a second." He paused. "It's not supposed to hurt, you know."

"I know," she said.

He nodded. "That's all I'll say," he said; "I won't mention this again, unless you do."

"Okay," she said. "Thank you."

o~X~o

Time went on. Izzy had never thought that having someone who knew who she really was would even be _comfortable_, but…Matthew made her feel better. He made her feel safe.

They continued to wreak havoc on the world. Sharing the thrill of it all with Matthew brought her pleasure like she had never known. It wasn't just that it was more fun - him being there, sharing the experience, made her feel…almost happy.

She didn't try to sleep apart from him anymore, not even when they were having some down time in a quiet little town or village in a remote, peaceful country. For that matter, she didn't try to be apart from him at all. She never wanted to be apart from him again.

Their cool-down times between jobs got longer, and they started spending time together, almost as a couple. They went out to dinner, they danced together…they were practically dating.

Every night, they kissed. It felt so natural to her - as natural as breathing - to kiss Matthew. He never tried to make any moves on her; he held firm to his promise. She knew perfectly well that each night - each time they kissed - he hoped she would want to go further, but she didn't. She trusted him, but whenever she thought about having sex with him, she remembered the pain of her lost innocence. She doubted she would ever be able to do it. Part of her _did_ want to, but…not enough.

One night, though - about six months after she had told him her story - she realized that she could sleep with him without having sex with him…and that she wanted to, very much. She wanted to be close to him, just not sexually. He always went to bed in his clothes - he was chivalrous like that, not wanting to make her see him undressed - so maybe…

It was about midnight when she got up off the floor. His breathing had evened out about half an hour earlier, so she wouldn't have to answer any questions. She didn't want to _talk_ to him…just to be closer to him.

She stepped out of her knee-high boots, pulled out the gun she kept with her even when she slept and set it aside, and walked over to the bed. It was more than big enough for two, and he was sleeping on one side; all she had to do was lie down on the other side. She was about to, when she remembered why she hated beds.

She hesitated. The last time she had gotten into a real bed…well, the _last_ time had been the night she had killed her grandfather, but before that…

_I don't have to get in,_ she decided. _I'll just lie down on top._

She did so - carefully, so as not to wake Matthew. It felt so strange, to be lying on something soft, and to have a pillow under her head…She knew most people found it comfortable, but to her, it was just strange. Still, Matthew was right there beside her, just an arm's reach away…

"You can get in, you know."

She started at the soft sound of his voice, then turned over to look at him.

He smiled at her. "I won't try anything, I promise," he told her.

She closed her eyes. "That's not why I'm…not getting in," she said.

She heard him sigh sympathetically. Then she heard him move, and opened her eyes just as he put his hand on her shoulder. She looked in his eyes, and saw nothing but compassion.

And suddenly, she realized what she really wanted.

She got up, pulled back the sheets, and got in bed with him, pulling the sheets over her.

"Matthew?" she said softly.

"Yes, Izzy?" he asked.

She hesitated. She felt so stupid, so childish, for wanting to ask…but then again, she had never really been a child before, so…

She took a deep breath. "Will you hold me?" she asked him. "Just…hold me? Like you did that night?"

He was still for a moment. Then he reached out and hugged her, sliding one arm underneath her and putting the other over her. She put her arms around his neck and snuggled up against him. He put one hand on the back of her head and started gently stroking her fake hair, and for the first time in her life, she knew total peace.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anything for you, Izzy," he said honestly.

Lying on something soft still felt strange, but in Matthew's arms, Izzy knew comfort unlike anything she had ever dreamed…and for the first time, she didn't have to order her body to shut down; she just peacefully drifted off to sleep.

~X~

From that night on, Izzy and Matthew always slept in bed together. Neither of them took off their clothes before going to bed for a while, so it wasn't outside Izzy's comfort zone. By day, their routine didn't change - they still had fun wreaking havoc on the world every month or so and living pseudo-normal lives the rest of the time.

Izzy didn't know how long it was before she realized she was getting more and more comfortable with being close to Matthew. She didn't know exactly when she started kissing him while they were lying in bed, or when she started wanting more of him, touching his neck and even reaching under his shirt to touch the skin of his chest. It was only about two months before, somehow, they had gotten to the point where she took off her jacket, and Matthew took off his shirt, before they got in bed, but she couldn't say exactly when any change had taken place.

Slowly, very slowly, they came closer and closer to the inevitable: becoming lovers. It wasn't just a progression in the physical realm, either; Izzy started to _feel_ something for Matthew, more and more, until she began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she really _was_ human inside…if maybe she really _was_ capable of love…

One thing was for certain, though: Matthew made Izzy feel more alive than she had ever felt before.

Almost on a monthly basis, they took one step closer, removing one more article of clothing that kept them separated, until they were wearing nothing but their undergarments when they went to bed. Sometimes Matthew touched Izzy in a way that made her flinch, but he always backed off when this happened. Izzy actually felt kind of guilty when it happened - they _were_ practically naked, after all, so making him back off almost felt like dangling a carrot over a rabbit - but he never got frustrated with her. He was never anything but sweet, and chivalrous, and tender…

Two days before the two-year anniversary of the day they had met (and the one-year anniversary of the night she had told him her story), as they were falling asleep, Izzy decided to speak up about something that bothered her.

"Matthew," she said softly.

"Yes, Izzy?"

"I…" She hesitated.

After a minute passed without her saying anything, Matthew asked, "Are you ready?"

"No!" she said quickly. "No, I'm not, I just…" She took a deep breath. "I have scars," she told him.

There was silence for a minute.

"So?" Matthew finally asked.

She turned over in his arms to look in his eyes. "I mean, I have scars…where I was ripped," she said.

"And?" he asked.

She closed her eyes. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean," he reassured her.

She opened her eyes again. He ran a hand up and down her arm.

"Are you afraid that that would bother me?" he asked.

"Wouldn't it?" she asked.

He sighed. "The only problem I have with your scars is that someone did that to you," he told her. "As far as _you're_ concerned…why would I think less of _you_ for having been abused like that?"

Izzy swallowed.

"I don't have to see them, if you don't want me to," Matthew added gently.

"But you _would_ have to _feel_ them," she said softly. "They go…all the way up."

Matthew sighed and tightened his embrace, pressing her against him, though not too hard. "Izzy, I cannot tell you how bad it makes me feel that you had to go through that," he said, "but that is the only problem I have with your scars. They won't make me care for you any less. You don't have to be afraid of me, Izzy. You will always be the most amazing person I have ever met."

Izzy hugged him back, sighed contentedly, and fell asleep.

~X~

For the second anniversary of the day they had met, Izzy and Matthew went all-out. Izzy performed her full-scale armed robbery routine - shooting someone in the gut to announce herself, getting everyone on the floor, and having the money and leaving within four minutes - and then, once they were in the clear, Matthew set off the bombs Izzy had planted the previous night, killing everyone in the bank. It was beautiful.

The rest of their day went equally well. No one left alive had seen their faces, so they were able to live it up right in front of the cops. They even went out to dinner that night and talked about what they'd done, and no one even glanced at them.

It was the most perfect day, and Izzy had never been happier.

That night, they didn't bother waiting to get in bed; they started kissing as soon as they were in their room, and they undressed each other right there in front of the door. Once they were down to their underwear, Izzy had a sudden urge to go a little further, and without giving herself a chance for second thoughts, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.

Matthew hesitated. His eyes, burning with desire, looked deep into hers.

"Come on," she whispered huskily.

She gasped as his hands stroked her breasts - no one had ever touched her there before, and it felt good. He brought his face to her chest, kissed her below her neck…and then, suddenly, he was all over her, pushing her against the wall and touching and kissing and licking her everywhere. He couldn't seem to get enough of her.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned with pleasure. This was a different kind of pleasure from what chaos and murder brought her - not better or worse, just…different. Instead of being pleasurable for the monster inside her, intimacy with Matthew brought pleasure to the human she was deep down, and she liked it. She liked it a lot…

And suddenly, she wondered what the hell she was doing.

"Matthew!" she gasped.

Immediately, he pulled back, straightening up to look in her eyes. "Yes, Izzy?" he asked breathlessly.

"I think…" She swallowed nervously. "I think I'm ready," she told him.


	10. Heart of Darkness

They were the words Matthew had been waiting two years to hear, and he wanted nothing more than to take her right then and there…but when he looked in her eyes, he didn't see desire; he saw nervousness. So instead, he cradled her face in his hands and gently asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'll never be _more_ sure," she said, still sounding nervous.

He shook his head. "That isn't a yes," he pointed out.

Her eyes narrowed, almost angrily. She reached down, and Matthew heard her slip off her panties and let them fall to the floor. A second later, he felt her hands on his hips, and she took hold of the elastic waistband of his boxers, pulled it down over his erection, and pushed them off of him, so that the two of them were both completely naked.

"Don't act like you don't want to," she said in a low voice.

He did want to. He wanted to more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to pounce on her. But considering what she'd been through, he needed for her to be sure that she wanted it, too.

"I do want to," he breathed, "but you don't need to rush things. If you're not sure you're ready-"

She wrapped her arms around his head and kissed him hard, pressing her body against his and driving him beyond the limits of his self-control. He kissed her back passionately without even thinking about it - he _couldn't_ think, not with her so close, so intimate, so willing…

Still kissing her, he bent down slightly, slid his right arm under her knees, and picked her up. He carried her over to the bed, gently laid her down, and was about to climb on top of her when he felt her stiffen.

Immediately, he regained his senses. She wasn't ready. She didn't fully trust him. But…he couldn't _not_ do it, not now that they were so close…

He broke off the kiss. "Izzy?" he murmured.

"Yeah?" she asked softly.

He looked in her eyes. "May I see your scars?" he asked gently.

Her eyes widened, almost fearfully.

He kissed her quickly. "Please," he said. "I promise I won't desire you any less. Let me see them." He kissed her again, gently. "Let me prove to you that you can trust me," he whispered.

He heard her swallow hard.

"Okay," she said softly. "Okay."

He gave her one more quick kiss, then went and turned on the light. When he turned back to her, he couldn't help taking a long, admiring look at her naked form. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, and her body was utterly perfect.

"You're beautiful," he told her as he walked back over to her.

She glanced at him and smiled nastily. "You're not bad yourself," she said.

He smiled back, then turned serious. Izzy closed her eyes and turned her head to the side as he put a hand on her thigh, spread her legs, and saw…

"_Dear_ _god_…!" he breathed.

Two pink, puckered scars, both roughly triangular in shape, extended from either side of her opening, reaching all the way to the bases of her legs. What the size of the scars implied about just how badly and brutally she had been ripped open chilled Matthew to the bone.

"Not pretty, are they?" Izzy said in a hollow, shaking voice, not opening her eyes.

Matthew shook his head almost manically, utterly horrified. "My god, Izzy…" He reached out and touched one of the scars lightly, scarcely able to believe they were really there. She flinched, and he heard her breathe in sharply.

He quickly pulled back his hand.

"What sort of monster would do this?" he asked softly, shocked.

"A man," Izzy replied tonelessly. "An ordinary human being, like you or me."

Matthew shook his head. "Izzy, an ordinary human being wouldn't be able to-"

"Yes they would," Izzy said firmly, if still tonelessly. "Every person on this earth has it in them to do what my grandfather did to me. That's just the way humans are."

It was at that moment that Matthew fully understood, at last, just who Izzy was, and how she saw the world…

…and what he understood broke his heart.

He sank to his knees beside her, took her hand, pressed his face against it, and started crying.

He heard her turn her head. "Why are _you_ crying?" she asked him, her tone still empty.

He looked up at her. "Izzy…no one should have to suffer what you did," he said tearfully.

She sighed and turned her head away again, though she didn't close her eyes again. "Yeah, well, what's done is done," she said flatly. "Nothing can change it now."

Matthew kissed her hand hard, then pressed it to his forehead again and continued sobbing. He had never dreamt that such cruelty - such sheer, unadulterated _evil_ - existed in the world at all, and here Izzy was, believing it was in everyone. No one should have to be forced through a life that would give them that outlook…

"Matthew?" Izzy asked after a minute.

He sniffed, forcing down his tears. "Yes, Izzy?"

"Turn off the light," she said hollowly.

"Okay," he whispered. He kissed her hand again, then stood up and went and turned the light off. He turned back to her, then hesitated.

"Are you coming or what?" she finally asked him.

"Izzy…" He walked back over to her, then knelt down beside her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her.

"I thought you promised you wouldn't desire me less," Izzy said bitterly.

"I don't," Matthew told her truthfully, "but…my god, Izzy, after what happened to you…I wouldn't blame you if you don't ever want-"

"What I don't want is to keep living my life in fear of him," Izzy said angrily, looking at him. "I don't want him to control me anymore. I want to be free of him. And…" Her tone softened, and she leaned over, reached out, and touched Matthew's cheek. "I want to be with you," she told him.

He could just make out her face in the faint moonlight that streamed in through the windows; her eyes looked into his with honesty, if not true desire.

Then she smiled that sexy, evil smile he loved so much, and he remembered that they were alone together, naked, in a bedroom.

"So come on, hotshot," she said in her trademark seductive voice; "climb on. Man up."

How could he refuse?

He kissed her hard and climbed on top of her. Her body felt so good against his, but as he positioned himself between her legs, he felt her tense up again. He kissed his way along her jaw to put his mouth by her ear.

"Relax," he whispered to her.

"Just do it," she said through gritted teeth, clearly far from relaxed.

He kissed her neck. "Izzy, I don't want to hurt you, but it _will_ hurt if you don't relax," he told her.

"Oh, thanks, that helps," she said sarcastically.

He kissed her on the mouth again. "Izzy-"

"Just _do_ _it_," she told him. "I know you want to. I can _feel_ that you want to."

"I do, but I don't want to hurt you," he argued gently.

"I've dealt with worse pain," she spat; "just get it over with. Do it!"

Matthew clamped his mouth over hers, his mind racing. He had to think of something; he'd promised he wouldn't let it hurt, but he couldn't keep saying no…

Suddenly, it dawned on him.

He broke away. "Hey," he said, "remember that guy you shot today?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

"The man you shot," Matthew repeated, "at the bank today. Do you remember him?"

"Yeah…" she said hesitantly.

He smiled down at her. "You shot him in the gut, same as you always do," he said softly. "It's cruel, you know - going for the gutshot instead of the kill shot. It takes a person several minutes to die of a bullet wound to the stomach."

As he spoke, her eyes became lidded, and he knew he was on the right track.

"It must be very painful," he went on. "Think about it - having a hole punched in one or more vital organs, internal bodily fluids mixing in ways they shouldn't, possibly even stomach acids eating away at the intestines…he must have been in agony."

Izzy's eyes rolled back in her head, and her breathing got heavier. Matthew's smile widened.

"He probably clung to the pain, though," Matthew continued, "because he knew that once the pain was gone, he would be dead. That's the really cruel thing about making him stay conscious as he died - he had several minutes to think about what was happening to him, to fully understand that he was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. Can you imagine how scared he must have been those last few minutes of his life, after you shot him? Staring into the void, knowing that nothing could save him, lying there in agony, wondering and fearing what comes after death-"

"Oh, _stop_," Izzy groaned; "you're gonna make me come before you even-!"

He kissed her deeply, and she moaned against his lips.

"Think about _that_, Izzy," he told her softly when he pulled away. "Think about what you did to him, about the suffering and fear you made him endure before he died. Think about it."

Her head lolled back against the pillow, her lips parted, and she moaned. As she did, Matthew positioned himself, and, as gently as he could, he slid into her.

Pleasure spiked through his body, and he groaned involuntarily; at the same moment, she cried out with ecstasy, clenching her inner muscles around him.

"Does that feel good?" he breathed in her ear, barely able to get the words out before kissing her neck.

"Yes!" she gasped, wrapping her arms and legs around him and pulling him closer. "Oh, god, _yes_!"

He moved against her. He wanted to do it hard, to lose himself in mindless passion…but he felt her scars - which really did go all the way up inside her - all along his length, and they reminded him, every moment, of what she had been through. So he was gentle. He was as gentle as he could force himself to be.

And it was very, _very_ worth it.

~X~

For a while after they were done, Izzy and Matthew lay still in each other's arms, both in a pleasurable haze.

"That was amazing," Izzy finally murmured.

"Yeah…" Matthew said softly. Then he smiled, remembering the last time she had said that, and added, "_You're_ amazing."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. At the same time, she opened her eyes and looked at him. They smiled at each other.

"_And_, you didn't have to hurt me," Matthew added after a moment.

"Hmm?" Izzy asked, looking a bit confused.

He ran his hand up and down her arm, still smiling at her. "Well, you're a sadist," he said. "Sometimes, I used to wonder if maybe you would have to hurt me to enjoy it."

She blinked.

"I would have been fine with it, if that had been what you needed," Matthew added honestly; "I'd do anything for you."

Izzy broke eye contact with him, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Well, um," she said softly, "that's, uh…very sweet of you, but…" She hesitated, then looked in his eyes again. "I wouldn't enjoy hurting you," she told him.

It was Matthew's turn to blink.

"I…_don't_ enjoy hurting you," Izzy went on. "Remember that time when I shot you?"

"Yeah…" Matthew said hesitantly.

She nodded. "I didn't enjoy that," she told him. "I didn't like seeing you in pain."

"Izzy…" Matthew shook his head, amazed. "That was…so long ago…"

"I know," Izzy said, "but even back then, you were…different, to me." She smiled at him, though the expression didn't quite meet her eyes. "I don't think of you the way I think of everyone else," she said. "I don't know how, or why, but…you're different. You…matter to me. I…I _care_ for you. In fact, I think maybe I-" She broke off and looked away again.

Matthew could scarcely breathe, not daring to hope that she was saying what he thought she might be saying…

Then she looked in his eyes again, and said the words he hadn't even dared to _dream_ she would ever say to him:

"I…I love you. I didn't think it was possible - I didn't think I _could_ - but…I love you."

The words took a moment for him to process. Then, he pulled her against him and kissed her with all his might, needing to feel the lips that had said those beautiful, _beautiful_ words…

"Izzy," he gasped against her mouth. "Izzy…"

He didn't want to stop kissing her. But he _needed_ to stop kissing her, to say what he needed to say…

He forced himself to pull away, then looked in her eyes.

"Izzy I love you," he said, the words coming out of his mouth so fast his tongue nearly tripped over them. "I've loved you from the moment I first saw you and I've only loved you more with each moment we've spent together. I love your strength, your beauty, your brilliance, your ruthlessness, your skill with bombs, the cruelty you show mankind, even your sadism. I love the ice monster you work so hard to try to be, and I love the human being you really are underneath it all. I love everything about you." He paused for a moment to catch his breath. "I love you, Izzy," he said again, lifting his hand to caress her face, "and I have been waiting for two years to tell you."

Izzy's expression was unreadable. "Why didn't you?" she asked in an odd tone of voice.

Matthew sighed. "Because I didn't think you'd believe me," he answered. He swallowed nervously, then asked, "_Do_ you believe me?"

For a few, painful seconds, Izzy was silent. Then, she took a breath, and answered, "Yes."

And suddenly, they were kissing passionately again.

"Yes!" she gasped against his mouth. "Yes!"

They kissed forcefully, mindlessly, holding each other tight, just like the first time they had kissed; except that this time, instead of meaning nothing, the touch meant _everything_: A binding vow of true, undying love.

"I love you," Matthew whispered against her lips, kissing her with everything he had. "I love you."

"I love you," Izzy murmured back, meeting his kisses with equal ferocity and passion. "I love you."

Over and over again, the words they had both secretly wanted to say to each other for the past two years:

"…I love you…"

"…I love you…"

"…I love you…"

"…I love you…"

_…I love you._


	11. True Love

When Izzy and Matthew woke up the next morning, naked in each other's arms, neither of them had any doubts, not even for a second, that what had happened the previous night had been real.

"Good morning," Matthew said, smiling at her.

"Good morning," she replied, smiling back.

They kissed, as though they had always been lovers. Maybe, in a way, they always _had_ been lovers. Everything felt so natural, so right, as though things had always been this way between them - as though things _not_ being this way was unnatural.

They broke apart after a minute and smiled at each other again.

"So," Izzy said, "do you want to take a shower first, or should I?"

"Can't we take it together?" Matthew asked, a bit surprised.

"No," Izzy said without a moment's hesitation, though her loving smile didn't waver. "No one gets to see under the wig and makeup - not even you, my love."

"'My love'…" Matthew repeated softly.

Izzy's eyes flared momentarily, in her signature way that was normally creepy, but in this case was just…intimate.

"Why not?" Matthew asked, lovingly tracing his index finger down her jaw line.

She shrugged, her smile widening. "The face underneath the wig and makeup just…isn't mine," she answered; "it's not the face of Izzy Rogers."

Matthew knew that her wording was deliberate - a trap, to try to catch him breaking his promise…so he smiled and said nothing more than, "Okay."

Her smile widened, and she kissed him again, harder. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

When they broke apart again, she added, "I've been thinking about changing it up lately, though. I mean, I've worn this disguise for a couple of years now - it's about time for something new." She smiled. "What do you think of blond hair?" she asked him.

"No," Matthew said softly, pressing his forehead against hers lovingly; "no, don't do that, my love. You're beautiful the way you are."

She chuckled. "It's not about being _beautiful_, it's about being _safe_," she told him; "authorities all over the world have seen this face, and even though they can't ID it, it's time for me to make a change."

"No, please don't," Matthew pleaded gently. "If they can't ID your face, then there's no need to change it." He kissed her. "This is the face of the Izzy Rogers I fell in love with," he said. "I know you'll always be the same person underneath, but…I'd rather you not change it."

She thought for a second, then smiled. "Okay," she said, "I'll put off changing it for now. I _will_ have to change it at some point, though."

Matthew sighed but didn't argue. "You can take a shower first," he said.

"Thanks, baby," Izzy said, kissing him one more time before getting up.

Matthew lay back.

_My life is officially perfect,_ he thought.

~X~

The day passed as their days normally did. They liked to stick around during the peak of the investigation after they did something, so they didn't have anywhere in particular to go. The only difference was what there was between them, now that they were truly a couple. What they had went beyond just a connection - it was true love. True love in an unlikely place, perhaps, but true love all the same.

That night, Matthew was eager to be with her again. Just as their naked bodies began to intertwine in bed, however, he felt Izzy hesitate.

He pulled back. "What's wrong, my love?" he asked.

Izzy closed her eyes and said nothing for a moment. Matthew waited.

At last, she took a breath, opened her eyes again, and answered, "I'm sorry, but…I don't think I can do it tonight."

Matthew blinked. "Why not?" he asked, confused.

Izzy hesitated again. "Look…Last night, I had a fresh kill to get off on," she finally said. "I don't have that tonight. I just…I don't think I can do it right now." She met his eyes remorsefully. "I'm sorry," she said.

Matthew could have pushed things. He could have insisted. He could have told her that it wasn't fair for her to hold back now that they'd already done it once. He could have challenged the fact that she loved him, made some point about how her loving him should mean that she would want to be with him.

But because he loved her, he just smiled at her and said, "Okay. Whatever's comfortable for you."

"I'm sorry," Izzy said again. "I know it's not really fair-"

"It's okay, my love," Matthew reassured her. He kissed her gently. "I just want you to be happy," he told her honestly.

Tears welled in Izzy's eyes, and Matthew knew that no one had ever said anything like that to her before. "Thank you, my love," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he said, and he kissed her again.

She kissed him back, and they continued kissing each other deeply until they fell asleep.

~X~

The third year that Izzy and Matthew spent together was the happiest year either of them would ever know. Their love for each other only grew stronger every day, until nothing mattered to either of them except each other. They continued wreaking havoc on the world together, and they made love the night after each kill by Izzy's hand (and Matthew didn't know it, but after a few months, Izzy started to wonder if she really did need the kill to enjoy being with him, though she never mentioned this).

At one point, Izzy told Matthew, "You know, I think I'm glad I had such a horrible life - if my grandfather hadn't turned me into a monster, I never would have met you."

To this, Matthew replied, "That's sweet of you, but when you put it that way, I'm not glad we met. I would happily give up what we have if it would mean you had a happy life."

"But then you would still be 'trapped in a dark place'," Izzy protested.

"But _you_ would be happy, and that's more important to me," Matthew told her.

Such was the nature of their love for each other, and the whole third year of their life together passed with them doing nothing but enjoying one another's company and reveling in the love they shared, all without a care in the world. Izzy even started showing Matthew how she made the bombs they used so often, and shared a secret with him: Ever since they had met in Chad, the wires she used on her bombs were the same as the colors of the Chad national flag. In a way, they agreed, Chad would always be home to them.

Then, the night before their third anniversary, as they were lying in bed together, Matthew asked Izzy, "So, what are we doing tomorrow?"

"What do you mean?" she teased.

He smiled at her. "Tomorrow is the third anniversary of the day we met," he said. "The first anniversary, you told me your story; the second anniversary, we became lovers. What are we doing tomorrow?"

Izzy chuckled. "Well, apart from getting married, there really isn't much more we can do, is there?" she joked.

He laughed.

She smiled and nuzzled his chest. "I'll think of something, don't you worry," she promised sinisterly.

In the end, it was a promise she would be sorry she kept…

~X~

The day of their third anniversary was spent the same way their second anniversary had been - there wasn't much more they could do to celebrate, after all. It wasn't until after they made love that night that Izzy spoke up.

"So I've been thinking," she said, "and I have an idea."

Matthew smiled at her. "Do tell," he said; "you know I love your ideas."

She smiled wickedly back. "Well, we're evil," she said. "We kill and destroy for the fun of it, and the world would be better off without us."

Matthew blinked. Was she saying she wanted to retire, or maybe even die?

"But it occurred to me recently that it's not really our faults," Izzy went on. "We do this because we were hurt. People did this to us."

"Oh," Matthew said. He paused, then asked, "So what are you thinking?"

"Well," she said, snuggling up against him, "I got _my_ revenge on the one who hurt _me_…but your injury has gone unavenged." She smiled nastily. "What do you say we do something about that?" she asked sinisterly.

"The problem with that is, I wasn't hurt by just one person," Matthew pointed out. "The entire American government is what did this to _me_."

Izzy's evil smile widened. "So?" she asked wickedly.

Matthew blinked. "What are you saying?" he asked.

"I'm saying…" Izzy rose to look him in the eye. "Let's go to the states and do something _big_," she said huskily. "Something that'll get us _noticed_. Something that will make us go down in history."

"Easier said than done," Matthew said.

Izzy chuckled nastily. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of _something_," she said.

Matthew sighed. "Look," he said, "I do like the sound of this, but there really isn't anything we could do. Even bombing something in D.C. wouldn't feel special; we've done plenty of bombings."

"So let's do something bigger," Izzy said.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at her. "What could be bigger than blowing something up?" he asked.

Izzy gave him an evil grin, then settled back down beside him. "Like I said, I'm sure we can think of _something_," she replied. She kissed his neck. "It's only fair, my love," she murmured, nuzzling him. "You deserve to have your revenge, too."

"Well, if you can think of something…" Matthew hugged her against him and kissed her forehead. "I'm right behind you," he told her.

"Actually, I think _you_ should be the one to lead the charge on this," Izzy said; "I mean, it _is_ going to be about _you_, after all."

"Oh, but you're the clever, experienced one," Matthew teased; "you _always_ lead. I _like_ it when you lead."

She smiled wickedly at him, kissed him, and said, "Well, okay…if you insist."

They laughed.

~X~

As always, they stuck around for a few days after their latest act of chaos, and they spent their down time bouncing ideas off each other for just how Matthew was to get his revenge on the American government. While they agreed that whatever they decided on, it should be done the day of their fourth anniversary, neither of them could come up with anything suitable - if bombing D.C. wasn't enough, what _could_ be?

Three months passed. They continued living their regular lifestyle, but became more and more frustrated by the problem they had presented themselves with.

Finally, Izzy suggested that they just go to the states right away and see if they could come up with something while they were there. As always, Matthew was right behind her.

And so it was that Izzy Rogers and Matthew Downs returned home, to the United States of America, for the first time in years.


	12. Enter Chris and Ollie

After a month in the U.S., Izzy and Matthew still had no ideas. In the end, the United States was just a country, like any of the others they'd caused chaos in - nothing would make any of their normal routines special. Still, after a month had gone by, they figured they might as well do their routine in the meantime anyway - after all, as Izzy pointed out, they had no other source of income, besides which she was getting blood-hungry.

They staked out a bank in the greater D.C. area. It was a relatively small one - they didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves just yet, since they planned on staying there for a while. Then, after a few days of recon, they were hanging around inside when Matthew noticed that Izzy was staring at something intently.

"Izzy?" he asked. "What do you see?"

"You see those two guys there?" she asked in reply, gesturing at a pair of men with her chin.

Matthew looked at them. At a guess, he would say they were brothers, but he didn't notice anything particularly noteworthy about them. "Yeah," he answered.

"They were here yesterday," Izzy said.

Matthew turned to look at her. "So?" he asked.

She looked at him. "They were here _all_ _day_ yesterday," she said. "Like us."

Matthew looked at them again and chuckled, guessing at what she was thinking. "Wow," he said; "this bank has it pretty hard."

Izzy didn't respond.

Matthew looked at her again. Her eyes were fixed on the two men; her gaze was more intense than Matthew had ever seen it.

"Izzy?" he asked.

She held up a finger to quiet him, her eyes still fixed on the two potential robbers.

Matthew stared at her, bewildered; he had never seen her so deep in thought.

Slowly, a wicked smile, colder and more sinister than it had ever been before, spread across her face, and a gleam came into her eyes that was more evil and frightening than anything Matthew had ever seen before, even in her.

"Izzy," he said, tapping her arm.

She didn't respond. The look on her face scared the living daylights out of him.

"Izzy, you're scaring me," Matthew said, tapping her again.

Slowly, she turned to face him. "Don't be scared, love," she said; her voice was as frightening as her expression. "_You're_ not the one who needs to be scared." She chuckled darkly, her evil gaze turning to the two men again, and wickedly added, "But there are plenty of people who _are_."

"Izzy…" Matthew had never seen her like this, and he didn't know what to make of it.

"I know what we're doing for our fourth anniversary," she said ominously.

Matthew blinked.

Abruptly, Izzy turned away from the two men and started walking to the doors. "Come on, hotshot, let's go," she said; "I'll explain on the way."

"Where are we going?" Matthew asked, falling into step beside her.

"Back to our room," she replied.

"Shouldn't we still be staking this place out?" Matthew asked, confused.

"Nope!" Izzy replied with a very scary smile. "We're not going to hit this bank."

Matthew blinked again. "We're not?" he asked.

"Nope!" Izzy said again. She gestured to the two men again. "They're going to do it for us," she told Matthew. She grabbed Matthew's hand and started virtually dragging him outside. "Come on!" she said, more excited than Matthew had ever seen her. "Like I said, I'll explain on the way."

~X~

"So?" Izzy asked when she was done outlining her master plan. "What do you think?"

Matthew took a minute to absorb the implications of what she was saying. Then, he smiled at her, if nervously. "Izzy, my love, I think you're a genius," he told her.

Izzy's eyes narrowed. "But…?" she asked.

Matthew sighed. "But…are you sure about this?" he asked her.

She smiled wickedly. "What's not to be sure about?" she asked in reply. "It's _perfect_! Lots of death and discord, two huge bombings in one day, we go down in history, one of us is out of harm's way until the last possible moment, we get to relive our story, you get your revenge on the American government, and I get to play puppet mistress again. What more could either of us ask for?"

"Puppet mistress?" Matthew asked.

Izzy gave him her evil smile. "Remember back when I told you that men who get close to me tend to not live very long?" she asked him. "I meant it. Back before I met you, I sometimes found some idiot to string along for a job, then kill when the job was done. I haven't done that since you, obviously, but…" She sighed. "I confess, I kind of miss it," she told Matthew. "You wouldn't _believe_ how much control a girl with a gun can have over a man."

"A _sexy_ girl with a gun," Matthew commented, smiling.

She laughed. "See?" she teased. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I do," Matthew agreed, nodding.

Izzy nodded, too. "It's fun to control people like that," she told him, grinning; "you have no _idea_ how much fun it is to pull a few strings and watch people dance for you." Her grin faded slightly, and she stepped up to Matthew and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Of course, if you're not comfortable with me seducing a couple of idiots, I won't do it," she told him.

"Would I need to be jealous?" Matthew asked teasingly, knowing the answer.

She smiled at him. "Not at all, my love," she told him. "I'll have to string these two along for a few months instead of a few hours, so I may have to give them more than I would otherwise, but no matter what, my _heart_ belongs only to you…black and shriveled thing that it is," she added nastily.

They both chuckled.

"I trust you," Matthew told Izzy. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then what _are_ you worried about?" Izzy asked.

Matthew hesitated. "I just…have a bad feeling," he said.

"Oh, come on, hotshot, don't get cold feet on me _now_," Izzy teased.

Matthew still hesitated; he _wanted_ to tell her that he was right behind her as always, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something about this plan was a bad idea.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Name one thing about this plan that isn't perfect," she challenged. "If you can name one thing about it that doesn't work, I'll scrap it."

Matthew thought. "I won't be there while you pull the jobs that fund the final step," he pointed out.

"That's the point, though," Izzy said; "only one of us will be in any danger until the very end…and since I'm the professional here, it should be me who's out there, besides which I'll have a couple of idiot scapegoats to fall back on." She smiled. "I'll be fine, don't you worry," she assured him.

Matthew racked his brains, trying to figure out what it was he didn't like about her plan. He went over each bit in his mind, and everything seemed like it was perfect - more than he could have hoped for. And yet…

"I just have a bad feeling about this," Matthew told Izzy. "I don't know why - it _does_ seem perfect, when I think about it, but…I just…I have a bad feeling."

She sighed, then kissed him, long and hard. He kissed her back, and the knot in his stomach eased slightly.

After a minute, Izzy pulled back. "I know this is a lot bigger than anything we've ever done before," she said, looking Matthew in the eye, all trace of her teasing smile gone. "This is going to be several months' worth of work and risk in a single area, besides which we'll be drawing more attention to ourselves than we ever have before. I understand that you're nervous; to be honest, so am I." She smiled lovingly at him. "But this is _perfect_," she said. "It's your revenge - you deserve to have this big of a show. I'm willing to take the risk for you, my love." She kissed him again, quickly, then added, "I would _only_ take the risk for you."

Matthew looked in her eyes, and saw nothing but honesty, loyalty, and love - always, _always_ love.

She smiled her sexy, evil smile. "It's all for you, hotshot," she said huskily.

He smiled back at her. "I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too," she replied, "and that's why I want to do this. It's _all_ for you, love."

They kissed again, deeply, both trying to express all their love through the touch. When they broke apart a minute later, Matthew had decided.

"I'm right behind you," he told her.

o~X~o

Izzy waited alone in the bank the next day; Matthew was back in their room, waiting to hear the news. She didn't know for sure that the two men would make their move that day - or anytime soon at all, for that matter - but she didn't want to take any chances; she probably wouldn't get any other opportunity to enlist some fellow criminals for their plan.

Noon passed, and the two men were nowhere to be seen. Izzy smiled to herself; surely, this meant that they intended to do it today. She just had to wait.

Then, at three PM - almost on the dot - two men wearing black ski masks and waving guns around came bursting through the doors, shouting for everyone to put their hands up.

Seriously. Black ski masks.

It took Izzy every ounce of self-control she had not to laugh at them; really, everything about them was so cliche it was absurd. Still, she played along with them, watching them closely. Several things quickly became apparent to her: One, neither of them had ever fired a gun in their lives; two, neither of them was capable of harming a fellow human being; and three, while they had the confidence of people who had done this before, they lacked real know-how.

_Perfect._

She waited for the right moment to speak up - she knew they would give her an opening at some point, if she was patient. She watched the transaction with the bank tellers carefully; everyone in the building was still. When the two men had the bag they had brought filled, they started to go.

_Now._

"Hey!" Izzy called after them.

They froze and turned to her; everyone else looked at her, surprised.

She smiled at the two men. "That's it?" she asked them mockingly. "You're just going to leave without even checking the money? That's pretty careless." She lowered her arms.

"Hey, hands in the air, bitch!" the one who appeared to be in charge snapped, pointing his gun at her threateningly.

She chuckled. "Or what, you'll yell at me some more?" she sneered. "Please." She shook her head. "Look, I _was_ going to play along," she told them; "I mean, far be it from me to get in the way of a pair of bank robbers with so much potential." She gave them a charming smile at those words.

Both men blinked.

"But really," she went on, "both the two of you and I know that neither of you would shoot a gun to save yourselves from a rampaging grizzly bear." She crossed her arms. "You're petty thieves," she said, "not killers."

"You willing to bet your life on that, sweetheart?" the dominant one sneered.

Izzy's reaction to being called 'sweetheart' was pure reflex: In the blink of an eye, she had her gun out and aimed between the man's eyes. "Call me 'sweetheart' one more time and it'll be the last word you ever say," she told him coldly.

There were some exclamations of surprise from the crowd; both men's eyes widened.

Izzy closed her eyes briefly, took a breath, and lowered her gun. "Look, boys," she said to the two men, "I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I just wanted to tell you that you should check the money before you go. I know you told them 'no dye packs', but even small banks like this one have protocol, and I'd hate to see a duo with so much potential go down for a less-than-rookie mistake." She shrugged, smiling at them. "That's all," she said lightly.

Everyone stared at her.

"Who are you?" the lesser man of the duo asked her after a minute.

She shrugged. "No one important," she said in a nonchalant, seductive tone, giving them a sexy smile.

The two men were rendered speechless, and Izzy suppressed a smirk; these two were going to be a piece of cake.

"Well?" she asked them after a minute, raising her eyebrows at them. "Are you going to check the money, or what?"

The pair looked at each other; clearly, neither of them was quite sure what to make of her.

Izzy forced herself not to chuckle. _Too. Easy._ "Actually, you know what?" she asked, stepping forward. "Let _me_ have a look - I bet I can tell if that load's any good or not a lot faster than-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, stay back!" the leader suddenly managed, pointing his gun at her threateningly again.

She smiled at him. "What do you think I am, a cop?" she asked mockingly. "Do I _look_ like a cop to you?"

"If you're not a cop, why do you have a gun?" challenged the secondary member of the team.

Izzy let her smile turn evil and sexy. "I'm not a cop," she told them. "I can prove it, if you'd like."

"Okay then," the leader said, not lowering his gun, "prove it."

Izzy grinned wickedly. "Can I have a volunteer?" she asked the crowd sarcastically.

She hadn't been serious, so when a voice said, "Me!", she was shocked.

Izzy turned to the source of the voice.

"Me!" a young girl said eagerly, even as the woman with her - presumably her mother - put her arm around her and tried to tell her to be quiet. "Me! I volunteer!"

Izzy stared at the girl for a second; she couldn't quite guess the girl's age…

Slowly, she walked over to the little girl. Everyone else in the building held their breath. The girl's mother looked at Izzy, wide-eyed, wordlessly begging her not to harm the child.

Izzy bent down in front of the little girl. "How old are you, sweetie?" she asked.

"I'm ten and a half!" the girl said eagerly, giving Izzy a hyper smile.

"_Ooh_," Izzy said, wincing mockingly as she straightened up. She looked at the girl's mother. "Tough luck, mommy," she said cruelly; "you're girl's just old enough for me."

And with that, Izzy raised her gun, took aim, and shot the girl in the gut.

Several onlookers screamed, and nearly all the rest gasped with shock and horror. The little girl's mother wailed "No!" and sank to the floor, cradling her dying daughter in her arms.

Izzy smiled wickedly and took a mental snapshot of the moment, filing it away in her mind; she would enjoy it with Matthew that night. "You have a few minutes," she told the sobbing woman coolly; "say your goodbyes."

She turned around and walked back over to the two would-be bank robbers. "Any more questions, boys?" she asked mockingly, careful to keep a sexy undercurrent in her voice.

"Who the hell _are_ you?" the leader of the duo exclaimed.

She shrugged. "Like I said, no one important," she said with mock nonchalance. She smiled wickedly and added, "Just a fellow criminal."

They stared at her, wide-eyed.

She walked up to them and held out a hand for the bag. "May I have a look?" she asked politely.

The lesser member of the team handed her the bag, looking very shell-shocked.

"Thank you," she said sweetly, giving him as charming a smile as she could muster.

She felt everyone's horrified eyes on her as she unzipped the bag and took a two-second look inside.

Then she laughed.

She pulled out two wads of money. "That one's yours, boss," she said, handing one to the leader of the team; "and that one's yours," she said, handing the other wad to the other man. "Take a close look."

The two men glanced at each other, then flipped through the wads of cash. It took the leader less than a second to find the dye pack stashed in the one Izzy had handed to him; the other man looked at the money for a few seconds before looking back up at Izzy and saying, "It's fake."

Izzy nodded and dropped the bag unceremoniously to the floor. "This whole load is worthless," she told them.

The two men glanced at each other, then tossed the worthless wads of paper in their hands aside.

Izzy smiled patronizingly at them. "Look, boys," she said, "you have guts, and like I said, you have a lot of potential." She widened her smile. "But you lack know-how," she told them.

There was silence for a moment, save for the wailing of the mother of the girl Izzy had shot, which hadn't stopped since Izzy had fired.

"And, uh…" the leader finally said to Izzy, clearing his throat, "do _you_ have know-how?"

Izzy gave him her evil, sexy smile. "I'm a professional," she told them. "It's how I make a living."

The two men looked at each other, and Izzy knew she had them. There was just one thing…

"Oh, _shut_ _up_," she said, exasperated, and she turned and fired her gun at the grieving mother.

Several people jumped and exclaimed with surprise and horror; the crying stopped.

"Whoa, what the hell?" the leader of the two men exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Izzy asked with mock innocence, turning back to the duo. "I put her out of her misery."

The secondary man shook his head, bewildered. "Who _are_ you?" he exclaimed again.

She smiled at him. "You keep asking me that, and I keep telling you: I'm no one important," she replied. She paused, then added, "I _am_, however, someone who needs to get out of here now; the cops will be here soon, and I kinda just murdered two people, so I should get going." She turned her gaze between the two of them. "Like I said, you boys have potential," she told them; "do your homework, and you should really be able to make a name for yourselves."

Neither of the two men said anything.

She smiled at them. "Bye," she said, and she started to shoulder past them.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, hold on," said the leader, putting an arm out to stop her.

She stopped and raised an eyebrow at him coolly.

The man shifted uncomfortably; clearly, Izzy scared him slightly. _Perfect,_ she thought.

"You, ah…you can't just walk away on us like that," the man said, trying to sound cocky but clearly intimidated.

"Yeah," said the other man. "Why don't you, uh, come with us?"

Izzy smiled at them. "You want my help?" she asked them sweetly. "No problem. Lead the way."

She would have had to be blind to miss the triumphant look the two men shared at her words - totally oblivious to the fact that _she_ was the triumphant one.

"This way," the leader said, and he walked out of the bank, Izzy and his partner right behind him.

"What are your names, boys?" she asked them once they were outside.

"Chris," said the leader.

"Ollie," said the other man.

They approached a van. Chris got in the driver's seat, and Ollie got in the passenger's seat; Izzy climbed in back.

"You two are brothers, I'm guessing?" she asked them.

"Yeah," Ollie answered.

"So what's _your_ name, sweetheart?" Chris asked her as he started the van.

Izzy leaned forward and pressed the muzzle of her gun to the underside of Chris's jaw.

"What did I tell you about calling me 'sweetheart'?" she softly asked in his ear.

Chris didn't move; all three of them were still for a minute.

"The only reason you're still breathing is that I get the feeling that calling a girl 'sweetheart' is something you do without thinking," Izzy finally said, still with her mouth right beside Chris's ear; she was careful to keep a sexy undercurrent in her voice. "For future reference, my name's Izzy."

"Izzy," Chris repeated. "Nice name. Uh…sorry about calling you…what I called you."

She laughed softly. "No problem, boss," she whispered seductively. She sat back and buckled herself in.

"Nice to meet you, Iz," Ollie said.

"Nice to meet you two, too," Izzy lied.

As the two brothers smiled at each other, Izzy smiled to herself.

_Gotcha._


	13. Puppet Mistress

They drove in silence. Izzy wanted to send Matthew a message to let him know she had them, but a large part of her plan hinged on the two brothers not knowing she wasn't completely alone, and she didn't want to risk anything, especially not so early on. Chris and Ollie, meanwhile, appeared to be busy getting over the shock she had caused them. Izzy knew they were both wondering how much they should blame themselves for the death of the little girl she had killed, and while she could have relieved them of their guilt by assuring them that she would have had to kill someone anyway - lest one of the onlookers mistake her for some sort of hero - she decided to let them wonder, at least for the time being; it would make them easier to manipulate later.

A couple of cop cars passed them early on, racing for the bank they had just left, but since the three of them were hardly booking it, they were passed by unnoticed. Izzy sincerely hoped the two brothers had at least prepared a place for them to stop and regroup in the event that they _had_ had to leave with the cops on their heels, but she was careful not to set her expectations too high; after all, they were clearly idiots.

Sure enough, the place they came to was far from a halfway house. Izzy said nothing until they were inside.

"Seriously, boys?" she asked mockingly once they were in. "No safehouse or anything? You two really have a lot to learn."

"So teach us," Chris said, almost matching her mocking tone. "You think you know the way things should be done? Tell us what we're doing wrong."

Izzy smiled. "Well, first of all, your pre-game needs work," she told them. "I was staking that bank out for two weeks - you boys were only there for two days before today."

"You noticed us?" Ollie asked.

Izzy chuckled. "Of course I did," she said; "I was paying attention. If you two had been paying attention, _you_ would have noticed _me_, too. That's another thing - when you're scouting out a target, _pay_ _attention_."

"We've done this plenty of times before, you know," Chris sneered.

"Yeah?" Izzy asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "And how many times have you two been arrested? More than once, I'm guessing."

Neither of the two brothers could meet her eyes at that. She smiled, but didn't push it.

"Second, your entry was pretty weak," she went on. "I mean, considering the fact that neither of you actually fired your guns, you did okay - bursting in and yelling is the next-best way to get everyone's attention quickly. Still, it doesn't make much of a statement. You need the crowd to be _scared_ of you."

"Well, how would _you_ do it?" asked Ollie.

Izzy smiled wickedly. "I don't burst in and shout," she answered; "I go in quietly, mingle for a minute…and then, out of the blue, I murder someone."

Both men blinked.

Izzy chuckled. "It sends a very strong, clear message," she said, shrugging. "Now, murder isn't for everyone, I know that - and like I said, you boys probably couldn't make yourselves fire at a rampaging grizzly bear. Still, firing a gun - even if you're just shooting into the air - has a much better effect than just yelling. Like I said, the crowd needs to be scared of you, and if you start out by firing a gun, people will be less likely to think you'd hesitate to shoot if they tried something." She crossed her arms. "You don't want to give them any reason to think you'd hesitate to shoot to kill - not even if you _would_ hesitate. In fact, _especially_ not if you would hesitate.

"Third," she continued, "having everyone put their hands in the air isn't very effective, especially if it's a dense crowd - it's too easy for someone to sneakily put a hand down and try something if there's a whole sea of raised hands for you to keep track of. The best thing to do is get everyone face-down on the floor - that makes it so that it would take anyone several whole seconds to get in a position to do something, and it'll be a lot easier for you to notice any movement.

"Fourth - and I know we just went through this, but _seriously_, boys - _check the money before you go_," she told them in an exasperated tone of voice. "That's bank robbing 101 - _everyone_ knows to do that. Even _I_ have to do that, and I start off with a murder, so they couldn't be more scared of me. _All_ banks have emergency protocol, even the smallest ones, and they'll _at_ _least_ toss a dye pack in, even if they don't fill the rest of the bag with fake bills.

"Lastly, set up a halfway house in case you have to leave with the cops on your heels - it was sheer dumb luck that you didn't find yourselves in that position today. Set up a place to switch vehicles and regroup - a place with an alternate exit that you can get to without being seen. You can't lead the cops back to wherever it is you're going to be staying."

The two brothers were speechless for a minute, and Izzy knew she had gone a little too fast - she had basically criticized every aspect of their heist. Still, she hoped the damage wasn't irreparable.

"Is there _anything_ we did right?" Ollie finally asked. "I thought you said we had potential."

"You do!" Izzy reassured them. "You have guts, and you have the right attitude - that's what got you as far as you got. The way you acted - your assertiveness - is more than enough to frighten the _average_ person into thinking you two would ever actually fire a gun. In small banks, like the one you just tried to hit, that's…_almost_ enough on its own." She sighed. "What you two lacked was _know-how_," she told them. "Considering you were basically stumbling through that heist with barely any idea what you were doing, the fact that you _almost_ got what you wanted - without getting caught, no less - is pretty impressive." She flashed her evil, sexy smile at them. "With know-how, you two could easily make a name for yourselves, even be famous." She thought for a second, then added, "In fact…I think you could even make use of professional advice above and beyond the basics."

"Like what?" asked Chris.

Izzy chuckled. "The sign of real skill is efficiency," she told them. "Acting on my own, I can always manage to be in and out in four minutes flat, if not less. If you two are coordinated enough, then working together, you could probably be in and out in three."

Chris tilted his head, apparently considering Izzy's words.

"And, ah…what about _three_ people working together?" he asked her finally.

Izzy had to work hard to keep her smile from too obviously being a smug smirk. "That depends on exactly what you mean," she replied with mock nonchalance. "If you're just talking in general, a trio isn't much better than a pair - if you split up the responsibilities among too many people, things get over-complicated. If you're talking specifically about the three of _us_ working together…" Her smile widened. "I'd say we could be in and out in _two_," she told them wickedly.

"Are you asking to join us?" Ollie asked her.

"Are you offering?" Izzy bantered.

The two brothers looked at each other for a minute, and Izzy knew she had them.

"Sure, you can join us," Chris said. "Let's get one thing straight, though-"

"Don't tell me," Izzy said; "_you're_ in charge."

"Damn right I am," Chris said.

Izzy smiled and shrugged. "That's fine by me, boss," she lied; "I can take orders, and I'll just give advice if you need it. I don't need to lead."

Slowly, Chris smiled back. "All right, then," he said, holding out a hand; "we have a deal."

Izzy shook his hand, then Ollie's. "One thing, though," she said. Without giving them a chance to ask, she stepped forward and yanked their ski masks off. "There is no way in hell I'm robbing a bank in a black ski mask," she told them, tossing the masks aside carelessly. "Seriously, boys - it's not just cliche, it's laughable."

"We have to hide our faces _somehow_," Ollie pointed out. "What do _you_ use?"

"I just wear this," she answered, gesturing at her disguised face.

Both brothers blinked.

Izzy smiled nastily at them. "You can't tell, can you?" she said. She touched her fake hair. "This is a wig," she told them, "and this face is mostly just makeup. I go _everywhere_ in disguise. I'm not saying you two have to do the same, but really, let's do something more creative than black ski masks."

"You got anything in mind?" Chris asked.

Izzy chuckled. "Give me a day, and I'll think of something," she replied teasingly.

"Deal," Chris said.

"Okay, then," Izzy said with a smile. "Will I be able to find you boys here tomorrow?"

"Got somewhere to be, sweet-?" Chris caught himself as Izzy gave him a pointed look. "Uh…Iz?" he asked instead. "Do you mind if I call you 'Iz'?"

Izzy shrugged. "Anything other than 'sweetheart' and 'girl' is fine by me, boss," she told him.

"How come?" asked Ollie.

Izzy smiled at him. "It's a long story, and quite frankly, it's none of your business - no offense," she replied. She turned to Chris and added, "And yes, I do have somewhere to be." She let her smile turn nasty. "I know you were hoping I'd stick around for the rest of the day - maybe all night - but unfortunately, I have plans. Maybe next time?"

"What are your plans?" asked Chris.

"You don't want to know," Izzy replied in a tone of voice that left no room for doubt.

Sure enough, Chris backed off. "Okay," he said. "You, uh…go keep whatever appointment you've got. We'll be here tomorrow."

"See you in the morning," Izzy said, giving the two brothers a charming smile. "Goodnight."

She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back to them as she remembered.

"Oh, and, don't worry about that little girl I killed today," she told the two brothers; "that's not on you. I was going to have to kill someone no matter what happened." She smiled wickedly at them. "I mean, I couldn't risk someone in that crowd mistaking me for some sort of _hero_."

Chris and Ollie blinked, too stunned to reply.

Izzy's smile held as she turned back around and left them.

_This is gonna be _fun_,_ she thought.

~X~

It was already past nightfall when Izzy finally got back to the room where she and Matthew were staying.

She walked in with a smile on her face.

"Mission accomplished, baby," she told Matthew, stepping into his arms.

"You got them?" he asked her as she hugged him back.

"Baby, I've got them wrapped around my little _finger_," she replied nastily. "These two are a piece of cake…and put together, they have about as much brains as one."

They both chuckled.

"So tell me about them," Matthew said after a moment.

"Their names are Chris and Ollie - short for Christopher and Oliver, I'm guessing; I didn't ask, since it doesn't really matter," Izzy said. "They're brothers, like you called it, and they are complete idiots - I have _never_ met _anyone_ as gullible as these two. I wasn't even very subtle, and they still think that me joining them was their idea - Chris is the older one, and he really, seriously believes he's in charge! What's more, they completely lack any know-how, so they _need_ me, and they know it." She smiled wickedly. "We couldn't ask for better help, baby," she told Matthew.

"So the plan's foolproof, then?" Matthew asked, smiling.

"We may as well already be past endgame," Izzy replied, smiling back.

"And what do they think of _you_?" Matthew asked.

Izzy chuckled. "Well, like any men I put my mind to seducing, they're practically drooling over me," she replied. "I also scare them a little, but in the end, that just makes me that much more alluring to them."

"Do they know you're a sadist?" Matthew asked, smiling again.

"Not yet," Izzy said nastily. "I'm going to delay letting them know about that as long as I can. Once they find out, they'll be more than a little put off."

"Don't be so sure," Matthew said. "Remember you thought the same thing about me, and I didn't mind at all."

"Yeah, well, they're not you, baby," Izzy said; "_they're_ just a couple of petty thieves."

"And _I_ was a killer waiting to happen," Matthew finished.

"Well, in the end, _everyone's_ a killer waiting to happen," she bantered, "but pretty much, yeah."

They laughed

"So what happens now?" Matthew asked after a moment.

"Well," Izzy replied, "now I spend all of every day teaching the two idiots how to rob a bank, and I spend all of every _night_ teaching _you_ how to make a bomb."

"Not _all_ of every night, hopefully," Matthew teased.

She laughed. "That depends on how fast you learn," she teased back.

He chuckled. "Speaking of bombs, did you get any money out of their heist today?" he asked her.

"Unfortunately, no," Izzy replied, and she gave him a quick recap of what had happened at the bank.

The first thing Matthew said when she finished was, "You murdered _two_ people today?"

Izzy shrugged. "Hey, the girl volunteered, and she was old enough," she said casually. She rolled her eyes and added, "And then her mommy wouldn't stop whining. I couldn't hear myself think, so I shut her up."

Matthew looked at Izzy for a minute. Then, he pulled her close, and kissed her deeply.

"Sometimes I forget just how cruel you can be," he murmured.

"Is that good or bad?" Izzy teased.

"Define 'good or bad'," Matthew bantered.

They laughed.

Matthew sighed. "I love you," he told Izzy.

"I love you, too," she replied. Then she smiled nastily and added, "Speaking of which…"

Matthew returned her nasty smile; he knew where this was going.

She grinned. "I kinda murdered two people today," she said mockingly. "I've been working hard not to think about it, but it's starting to become a strain. Would you mind giving me a little relief?"

He grinned back. "My pleasure," he said.

She laughed until his kiss cut her off.

o~X~o

For the next few weeks, Izzy left Matthew first thing in the morning and didn't return until after sundown. He hated having to be apart from her for so long, so frequently, but he accepted the necessity of it; after all, Izzy had to seem to the two brothers like she didn't have anything better to do than teach them how to steal.

At night, until they went to bed, Izzy started teaching Matthew how to make the huge bomb they were going to set off for endgame on their fourth anniversary. They had no money to buy any explosives supplies just yet, so she could only teach him what words could convey for the time being, but Matthew listened to every word intently; after all, this _was_ going to be _his_ revenge.

While Izzy didn't tell Matthew what exactly she and her two puppets were doing every day, she assured him she wasn't sleeping with them. Knowing what a cruel tease she could be, Matthew didn't doubt her, though he knew that she would have to do them at some point; after all, Chris and Ollie had to trust her fully and unquestioningly by the time they reached endgame, or a lot of things could easily go wrong. The fact of the matter didn't bother him - he knew that the two brothers were no competition for Izzy's heart, which was what really mattered.

Finally, the night before the thirtieth day after Izzy had hooked Chris and Ollie, she returned to tell Matthew, "We make our first move tomorrow."

"They're ready to go?" Matthew asked.

"_We're_ ready to go," Izzy said; "we've already hijacked the surveillance cams and everything. We'll be all over the news tomorrow…" She smiled. "We'll be long gone before the cops arrive - in and out in two minutes tops."

"_Two_ minutes?" Matthew repeated, surprised.

Izzy's evil smile widened. "Yeah," she said; "I know I'm usually in and out in four, but since I'm going to divvy up the responsibilities with a couple of greedy numbskulls, we should be able to cut that time in half."

"Divvy up the responsibilities, huh?" Matthew said. "Who's doing what?"

"Chris is the one who's actually going to handle the money and deal with the bank tellers," Izzy replied. "I'm in charge of crowd control and keeping an eye on the clock, and Ollie's my backup for crowd control and also our lookout…though again, we won't really need a lookout, we'll be done so fast."

"Crowd control…" Matthew repeated with a smile.

Izzy grinned wickedly. "You know," she said; "killing someone, shouting commands and threats, scaring everybody, firing a gun…my favorite parts of the job."

They both chuckled. Then, Izzy sighed.

"I wish you could be there to see it," she said sadly, stepping up to Matthew and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Me, too," he said, hugging her back, "but I have to stay out of the way for now, you know that."

"I know," she said, "but I _wish_ you could be there."

"I'll see it on the news with you tomorrow night," he promised.

"And then enjoy it with me after?" she asked teasingly.

"Hell yeah," Matthew replied with a grin.

o~X~o

Izzy, Chris, and Ollie all went into the bank separately. They mingled for a little bit before regrouping near the back of a line of people waiting to make transactions.

Izzy checked her watch. "You ready, boss?" she asked Chris softly.

"Ready when you are, Iz," he replied.

Izzy smiled and watched the second hand tick to the start of a new minute. "Three…two…one…"

In the blink of an eye, she pulled out her gun, took aim at a random person, and fired.

As the man fell, the response was immediate, dramatic, and predictable: People screamed and scattered, and the crowd quickly turned into a panicked mob.

Chris quickly pulled out the masks Izzy had chosen for the three of them, modeled after the king, queen, and jack of diamonds in a standard deck of cards. It took them a few precious seconds to cover their faces, at the cost of the crowd crossing the line from panicked to virtually uncontrollable.

Once they had their masks on, Izzy pointed her gun in the air. "Hey, quiet down!" she shouted, and she fired.

The gunshot plus the command managed to still the crowd.

"Do as you're told or you're dead, too, hear me?" she snapped. She quickly swept her eyes across the crowd to make sure she had everyone's full attention.

She did.

"Okay, everyone, face-down on the floor, now!" she ordered. "I see eyes, you see bullets, understand?"

Everyone scrambled to obey. Izzy smiled behind her mask; if there was one thing she enjoyed more than mass chaos, it was making terrified civilians do her bidding.

Once everyone was down, she checked her watch. "Eighty seconds, boss," she informed Chris.

"Okay," he said, turning on the tellers and tossing a black bag on the counter, "one hundred grand, in the bag, now! Any dye packs or fake bills and you'll regret it! Let's go!" He waved his own gun at the unfortunate bank employees to emphasize his point.

Izzy and Ollie paced through the rows of people on the floor while Chris waited for their pay. After a few moments, Izzy checked her watch again.

"One minute!" she called to Chris.

"Come on, what are you doing?" he shouted at the people behind the counter. "I said, move it!" Then, he did something that actually surprised Izzy: He turned his own gun skyward and pulled the trigger.

Several of the people on the floor made terrified exclamations at the sound of the shot; one person even turned his head to see what was going on.

Izzy fired at the offender, careful to hit a spot right beside his head. "I said, keep your face down!" she snapped.

The man yelped, terrified, and quickly pressed his nose to the floor.

"One more slip-up from any of you, and the next bullet goes in that person's brain, got it?" she snarled at the crowd.

Five more seconds passed, and Izzy suddenly had an inspiration.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards," she declared. "Consider yourselves privileged to be the ones to witness our debut…and, if you're lucky, live to tell the tale," she added nastily.

The fear of the crowd was almost tangible, and Izzy drank it in - never before had she been at leisure to so fully enjoy the terror she caused a group of people, and she liked it. _It's almost a shame I'm going to have to kill these two idiots during endgame,_ she thought remorselessly.

"Hey, babe, come check this for me, would ya?" Chris called to her suddenly.

"Stay down," she ordered the crowd.

"I've got 'em," Ollie assured her.

Izzy nodded and walked over to Chris. She took the bag he was holding out to her and glanced inside, then sighed and pulled out one of the wads of cash.

"Look at this, boss," she said, holding the wad out to Chris.

Chris took it, flipped through it for a split second, and found the dye pack.

"The hell?" he snarled at the bank employees. "I said no dye packs! You got a death wish?" He raised his gun.

Izzy checked her watch and blinked.

"Boss, we've got fifteen seconds," she told Chris. "The rest of the money's good, so there's no point in toying around. Let's go."

"You bastards got lucky," Chris spat, tossing the dye pack to the floor. He headed for the door, Izzy and Ollie right behind him.

Izzy paused and looked back, glancing quickly at the man she had shot before turning on the crowd again.

"Everyone, stay on the floor, eyes closed, count to a hundred, and don't even _think_ of moving until you get there!" she commanded. Then, just for fun, she waited two seconds, then fired into the air again. "I said, start counting!" she shouted, and with that, she followed Chris and Ollie out the door. Seconds later, they were in the van and driving away, careful to obey the speed limits.

Ollie took of his mask and let out a deep breath. "That was too easy," he said.

Izzy chuckled. "Not used to having this much control, are you, boys?" she teased, setting her mask aside.

"No," Chris said, removing his own mask. "I take it _you're_ used to things going this smoothly?"

"Compared to what I usually pull, this was sloppy," Izzy told him; "but considering it was _your_ first time going in with an actual plan, I'd say it went pretty well."

"You were scary back there, Iz," Ollie said, turning around to face her.

"Aw, thanks," Izzy said, smiling indulgently at him.

"No, seriously," Ollie said; "the way you handled the crowd back there was the scariest thing I've ever seen." He chuckled. "I may have nightmares about it."

Izzy laughed. "I do try," she said nastily.

"What was that thing you said about us being the Face Cards or something?" Chris asked.

Izzy shrugged. "Hey, we can't really make a name for ourselves if we don't have a name," she said. "I don't know, it just kinda came to me."

"Well, I like it," Chris said. "'Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards'…I like that. Do that every time."

"You got it, boss," Izzy said with a wicked smile. She thought for a second, then said, "Hey, you actually fired your gun today. I mean, you didn't hit anyone, but still, you pulled the trigger. How did that feel?"

"It felt good," Chris replied, smiling at her in the rear-view mirror.

"You actually surprised me," Izzy went on; "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Neither did I," Chris admitted. "I guess you must be a bad influence on me."

Izzy laughed. "Happy to help," she teased.

Chris laughed, too, as did Ollie.

"Now, are we done talking?" Izzy asked. "I wanna relive that whole thing…"

"Go ahead and savor it, Iz," Chris said; "you've earned that much and more."

Izzy chuckled, then closed her eyes and leaned back, calling up the image of the man she had shot, and what she had seen of him just before she had walked out the door.

He had still been moving.

Still alive after two minutes - probably still alive even now - and what was more, _conscious_. He was _aware_ of what was happening to him, dying slowly and painfully…

Izzy moaned aloud with pleasure at the thought.

Two seconds later, she heard Ollie say, "Izzy?"

She opened one eye and looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" he asked her, looking mildly concerned.

She smiled the nastiest smile she could muster. "Never better," she said wickedly; while this was technically a lie, neither of the two brothers would ever be any the wiser for it.

"You sure?" Ollie asked, his brow furrowed. "You're acting kinda weird…"

She gave an evil chuckle. "Did you see the guy I shot while we were walking out of there?" she asked. "He was still moving. He was still alive, and awake…"

"I thought you always started a heist with a kill?" Chris said, slightly confused.

"I do," Izzy said. "I know where I shot him - he's as good as dead. He's just not dead _yet_." She closed her eyes and leaned back again. "It takes a while to die from a bullet to the gut," she said, smiling with relish. "It's a very slow, painful death, and he's gonna be awake for every moment of it…" She moaned again.

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?" Ollie asked.

She opened her eyes again and gave him an evil smile. "What's the matter, Ollie?" she asked mockingly. "Haven't you ever met a sadist before?"

Chris slammed on the brakes and pulled over.

"You're a _what_, now?" he exclaimed, turning around in his seat to look at her.

"Keep driving, boss," Izzy said; "we're not quite in the clear just yet."

Chris blinked, then turned back around and started driving again. "But seriously," he said, "you're a _what_, now?"

Izzy chuckled. "A sadist, and proud of it," she said. "I don't just kill for power - I kill for pleasure."

Ollie shook his head. "And here I thought you were just a cold-blooded killer," he said.

She laughed as nastily as she could. "More like a _hot_-blooded killer," she said huskily. She tilted her head. "Does that bother you, boys?"

"Uh…" Chris said, "well, yes, Iz, quite frankly, that _does_ bother me."

"Me too," Ollie said.

"Oh," Izzy said mockingly. "Well, that's a problem. I mean, I kinda can't help it - I can't _not_ get off on the kill, it's just the way I am." She pretended to hesitate. "Is there any chance you can let it go, or will I have to quit?" she asked.

The two brothers were silent for a minute. Izzy wasn't worried.

"Look," Chris said at last, "as long as all our hold-ups go as well as that last one did, you can enjoy whatever the hell you want."

"Thanks, boss," Izzy said. Then she took on a very sexy tone of voice and asked, "Wanna party when we get back?"

"Er…no thanks," Chris said.

"Oh, come _on_," Izzy taunted; "is it really that bad?"

"Look, I said you can enjoy whatever the hell you want, and I meant it," Chris said, "but please…just…leave us out of it. Okay?"

"Ollie?" Izzy asked.

"What he said," Ollie said.

Izzy sighed. "Suit yourselves, boys," she said mockingly, and she went back to enjoying the thought and memory of her most recent kill. She didn't worry about whether or not she'd be able to enjoy it with Matthew that night - she could always milk it, and the more she freaked out the two brothers now, the longer it would be before they'd feel comfortable hitting on her again. As it stood, she estimated that she had already put off having to continue fending off their advances for at least three months.

_Too easy._

o~X~o

"Honey, I'm home," Izzy said sarcastically.

Matthew smiled and stood as she came in, carrying a promising black bag. "Everything went well?" he asked.

Izzy smiled. "Piece of cake," she said, dropping the bag in a chair and stepping into his arms. "_Everyone_ was my puppet today - Chris and Ollie are putty in my hand, and the heist was more fun than I've ever had." She pouted slightly and added, "The only thing that could have made it better would be if I had been able to share it with you."

"Yeah, well…" Matthew gave her a quick kiss. "You can't have everything," he murmured.

She chuckled. "I don't need _everything_, hotshot," she teased; "just you."

"Oh, you," he said, smiling.

They hugged each other tightly.

"How much did you get?" Matthew asked after a minute.

"Thirty grand," she replied with a shrug, pulling back slightly.

Matthew blinked; she normally went for more than three times that amount, and while he knew she'd had to split up the profits with Chris and Ollie, he hadn't expected such a small figure.

"Yeah, I know it's not much, but I have to seem like I'm not in it for the money," Izzy said; "the idiots can't have any reason to be suspicious of me having any bigger plans. I had to take the smaller cut."

"Would they give you more if you gave them something in return?" Matthew asked teasingly.

She laughed. "Oh, they're not so interested now that they know what turns me on," she said wickedly.

Matthew smiled. "You told them?"

"I _showed_ them," Izzy said nastily. "They're slightly terrified of me now, and very freaked out. I'd say I have at least three months before they start hitting on me again - more, unless I turn out to have the worst luck in the world. Hopefully, I'll even be able to delay until endgame."

"You need them to trust you completely _before_ we reach endgame," Matthew felt the need to remind her.

"Which is why, if they manage to get comfortable with my…ah…preferences, before we reach endgame, I'll have no choice," Izzy acknowledged; "I know. I'm just hoping that there's a chance that it won't come to that."

Matthew didn't push the matter.

"Now, if we ration it right, thirty grand should be more than enough to sustain us until endgame," Izzy said, stepping out of his arms and taking on the professional tone of voice she used when she was going over her plans. "That's priority one. Priority two is getting the materials I'll need to make the bombs to blast my way to freedom after the heist during endgame. Priority three is getting the materials _you'll_ need to make the massive bomb you'll use to get your revenge. Any money we have left over after that goes towards the safehouse we'll set up in the event that we won't be able to leave D.C. right after we're done." She thought for a minute. "We may have to cut a few corners, but even at this rate, I think we can make it."

"You're the expert," Matthew said.

She grinned. "Yes I am," she said proudly.

He smiled back, then thought of something. "You said the heist was more fun than you've ever had?" he asked.

"Oh, turn on the news!" she exclaimed, virtually lunging for the TV. "I hope we didn't miss it!"

They hadn't. Mere minutes later, the story was on.

"Earlier today, a bank robbery took place in a small bank in the greater D.C. area," said the reporter. "Witnesses say three masked individuals - two men and one woman - started firing on the crowd to get everyone's attention; one man - 43-year-old Jacob Madison - was killed by one of the shots. The trio of bank robbers stole one hundred thousand dollars from the bank and left long before police were able to arrive on-scene, leaving virtually no clues behind; however, witnesses agree that the woman told them, quote, 'Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards. Consider yourselves privileged to be the ones to witness our debut - and, if you're lucky, live to tell the tale.' Police say they have no leads as to just who these 'Face Cards' might be, or where they might strike next."

Izzy turned off the TV.

"Beautiful," she said with relish. "They even got my entire quote."

"So you actually said that?" Matthew asked, mildly surprised.

She smiled at him. "That's what I said, word for word," she replied.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "'The Face Cards'?" he repeated. "Really, Izzy?"

"Well, yeah," she said, shrugging; "you know, like the king, queen, and jack in a deck of cards."

Matthew kept his eyebrow raised.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "The masks I picked out for the three of us are modeled after the diamond face cards," she told him. "I mean, it fits - two men, one woman."

"The masks _you_ picked?" Matthew repeated, raising his eyebrow a little higher.

"Hey, a girl has her pride," she said defensively; "there is no way in hell I was going to rob a bank in a black ski mask - or, for that matter, be seen robbing a bank with _partners_ wearing black ski masks. Chris said that if I came up with something more creative, he'd go with it, so I did. Besides," she added with a shrug, "we can't really make a name for ourselves if we don't have a name."

Matthew conceded.

Izzy grinned. "We're gonna be famous," she said proudly. Then she frowned and added, "I wish you could be part of it."

"I _am_ part of it," Matthew said; "I'm just…behind the scenes." He chuckled as he thought of something. "I'm the joker."

Izzy laughed.

Matthew smiled at her. "So I guess this makes you the Queen of Diamonds, huh?" he said.

She smiled back. "I guess it does," she agreed.

They smiled at each other lovingly for a minute. Then, Izzy's smile turned nasty.

"Now then, hotshot," she said wickedly, "I have a fresh kill that I've been waiting to enjoy all day. Care to join me?"

He laughed, pulled her close, and kissed her hard.

~X~

Time passed. Every month, like clockwork, the Face Cards struck again. After two more heists, Izzy had enough money to get all the supplies for the escape bombs she would use during endgame, and she was able to teach Matthew more about bombs while she worked. One job later, they had the money to start getting his supplies, and he was left with things to tinker with all day while she went and manipulated Chris and Ollie some more. They still had to spend all of every day apart, but again, Matthew understood the necessity of it.

Then, the night after the second-to-last heist before endgame, Izzy didn't come back.

Matthew tried not to worry, but he was painfully aware of the seconds, which became minutes, which became _hours_, that passed after she should have returned, and during which he heard nothing from her. He watched the news that night to make sure she hadn't been caught; the most recent attack by the Face Cards was reported, but according to the news, there had still been no arrests, and the police still had no suspects.

Finally, at midnight, he couldn't take it anymore.

**Where r u?** he texted her.

He held his breath as he waited for a response. After five minutes, he got one.

**On my way.**

**R u ok?** he asked, dizzy with relief.

Ten minutes passed before she replied.

**C u in 5 min.**

_That's not an answer,_ he thought, worried once more. He couldn't think of anything else to say, though, so he decided to just wait.

He paced around their room, essentially worried out of his mind. Five minutes passed. Then another five. Then another five…

Just as Matthew was seriously contemplating running outside and searching the city for her, he heard someone at the door. He turned to see if it was her. It was.

"Izzy!" he exclaimed, running over to her and hugging her tightly. "My god, I was so worried-"

She didn't return his embrace; instead, she pushed past him without even looking him in the eye.

"Izzy?" he asked, worried again.

She unslung the black money bag she was carrying from over her shoulder, dropped it in a chair, and took a few more steps away from him, her back turned.

"Are you okay?" Matthew asked, feeling sick with worry. He took a few steps towards her. "Did something happen?"

She gave a humorless, almost hysterical laugh. "Oh, something happened, all right," she said bitterly, still not turning to face him.

"Izzy, what's wrong?" Matthew asked softly. "Talk to me."

She sighed miserably. "As of today, I am officially a slut," she said in a hollow voice.

Matthew blinked, then slowly smiled. "You didn't," he said.

"I did," she said, sounding utterly miserable.

"Which one?" Matthew asked.

She sighed again. "Both of them," she replied, sounding on the verge of tears.

"And that's where you've been all this time?" Matthew asked, still smiling.

"_No_!" she exclaimed indignantly, whirling around to face him. "Of course not! How could you think that?" She sighed again and shook her head, turning away again. "I've been wandering around outside for the past few hours, trying to work up the nerve to face you," she told him quietly.

"'Nerve'?" Matthew repeated. "What, did you think I'd be upset?"

She quickly turned her face back up to look at him, tears in her eyes. "Aren't you?" she asked softly.

He smiled at her. "Izzy," he said, taking a step closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder, "we both knew this would have to happen sooner or later. You did what you had to. Of course I'm not upset."

She looked away again. "It felt so wrong," she whispered, sounding like she was about to cry. "I didn't want to…"

"I know," Matthew reassured her. "You only did what you had to to control them."

"I'm so sorry, Matthew," Izzy sobbed, meeting his eyes tearfully.

"_It's_ _okay_," Matthew told her firmly, putting his arms around her and hugging her gently. "To be honest, I'm not as offended by you screwing them as I am by the fact that you thought I'd be mad at you." He pulled back slightly to look her in the eye and smiled. "I understand that trust isn't something that comes easily to you, but when will you learn that I'm not going to turn on you?" He cradled her face in his hands. "I'm not going to leave you, Izzy," he told her. "Nothing will drive me away. I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, still tearful. "I love _only_ you."

"I know," he said firmly. "I have no doubts; I mean, we've been through so much together, and these two guys don't even _know_ you! I trust you, Izzy."

She looked at him for a minute, then hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "I'm sorry I doubted you," she said softly.

"It's okay," he told her, returning her embrace; "I understand. After everything you've been through, I get that trust isn't easy for you." He chuckled. "Honestly, though, I'm proud of you."

She pulled back to look him in the eye, smiling slightly. "You're proud of me for cheating on you?" she asked teasingly.

He smiled back. "It's not cheating if I know about it and am okay with it," he told her. "And I'm proud that you were able to do it in spite of…you know…everything."

Izzy blinked, and her eyes widened. "I…didn't even think of that," she breathed.

"You didn't?" Matthew asked, surprised.

She shook her head, looking shocked. "No," she said; "I only thought of you. I mean, I was only able to do it by focusing on today's kill, but what made it feel wrong was just…the thought of you. I didn't even think of…my past."

"Didn't either of them say something about your scars?" Matthew asked.

"They didn't see them," Izzy replied. "Plus, I made them use condoms; between that and the fact that they're complete idiots, they didn't feel them, either. Neither of them has any idea."

Matthew nodded.

Izzy sighed. "I can't wait until we get to kill them," she said. She looked up at Matthew. "Do you want to be the one to do it?" she asked.

"No, that's okay," Matthew replied; "they're all yours."

"Even though both of them had sex with your girl?" Izzy countered.

Matthew chuckled. "Well, when you put it _that_ way…" he teased.

They laughed.

"How about we take one each," Matthew finally suggested; "you can kill Chris, and I'll take Ollie."

"You sure you don't want Chris?" Izzy asked. "He went first."

"No, you take Chris," Matthew said. "When it gets right down to it, _you're_ the one who deserves payback; I'm not upset."

Izzy hugged him again. "I don't deserve you," she said.

"That's up to _me_ to decide," Matthew told her.

She chuckled.

They hugged each other for a minute. Then Matthew asked, "Did you get a bigger cut this time?"

Izzy laughed. "Yes, actually," she replied, pulling back slightly to look at him; "they let me take a full fifty grand away."

"So they're under your complete control now," Matthew said; it wasn't even a question.

"Yes," Izzy answered, looking somewhat smug. "I mean, I'll have to do it again a month from now, but…yes. As of now, they are literally nothing but my puppets."

"And that's what's important," Matthew said. He sighed. "I'm just sorry it means _I_ can't be with you tonight."

"You can," Izzy told him, suddenly stern. "We _can_ be together tonight. Hell, we _will_, damn it!"

"But if you've already gotten off on today's kill twice-"

"Stop," Izzy said, putting her finger over his lips.

He stopped.

"If controlling those two idiots meant that I couldn't be with you at the end of the day, I would _never_ be able to forgive myself," she told him firmly. "Maybe I couldn't get a third time out of a kill for just _anyone_, but I _can_ milk it for you." She gave him her evil, sexy smile. "I _will_ milk it for you, hotshot," she said nastily. "Better hurry, though - it only gets less fresh with every second that passes."

Matthew decided not to question it. He didn't even say another word; he just kissed her deeply. She kissed him back, her jacket dropping to the floor.


	14. The Unkeepable Promise

With the increase in profits, there was no doubt anymore that Izzy and Matthew would have plenty of money for endgame - a fact that comforted Izzy slightly. Now that they knew what would be within their budget, Matthew was able to start designing his bomb while Izzy was out each day, though he always asked for her guidance as soon as she came back. One thing quickly became apparent to her: In order for it to be as powerful as they had both hoped, it would be too big to transport.

"We won't have time to set it up during endgame," Matthew reminded her.

"Then you'll have to set it up in advance," Izzy said.

"And just leave it sitting out in public, possibly for hours?" he asked incredulously.

Izzy thought.

"You'll have to put it somewhere people don't go," she finally said; "a restricted area of some sort. It'll mean fewer casualties, but the damage to the building will be the same…and if we make it just a little bit more powerful, plenty of people should still die."

"_More_ powerful?" Matthew repeated. "Izzy, this is _already_ going to be twice as big as anything _you've_ ever done."

"Just a _bit_ more, to compensate for people not being within the first few yards of the blast radius," Izzy said. "It's not as big a statement if people don't die."

They were both silent for a minute. Then, all of a sudden, Matthew's eyes lit up.

"I've changed my mind," he told Izzy; "I want Chris."

Izzy raised an eyebrow at him.

"You kill Ollie your way," Matthew said, "and I'll give Chris worse."

"_Worse_?" Izzy repeated.

Matthew smiled the most evil smile Izzy had ever seen on him, and she couldn't help but return it, even though she didn't know where this was going.

"Sometimes terrorists strap bombs to people, in such a way that trying to get it off the person causes it to detonate before the bomb's timer runs out," Matthew said. "What if we make this one work like that? That way, we're guaranteed at least one casualty."

"And you want Chris to be the one to blow up?" Izzy asked, her wicked smile widening. "I like the way you think, baby!" She thought for a second, then said, "You know what would be even better, though? If we could strap a _cop_ to it!"

Matthew's evil smile widened in turn. "_Nice_," he said. "Let's call Chris our fallback, in case that's not possible - if I _can_ use a cop, though, I most certainly will."

They grinned at each other for a minute. Then, Izzy frowned as something occurred to her.

"If you're going to make the bomb so that you have to strap a person to it, that makes it all the more important that you give it an Achilles's heel - a way to deactivate it," she said. "You know, just in case something crazy were to happen."

"What, like if _I_ somehow end up getting strapped in?" Matthew asked, chuckling.

"Yes, actually," Izzy said, "that's _exactly_ what I mean." She sighed. "The reason bombers design their bombs so that they _can_ be deactivated is because there's always a possibility - however small - that they might end up getting caught in the blast themselves and die if they can't stop it," she told Matthew. "If this bomb is going to work _only_ with a person attached, it's just that much more important that you have a way to turn it off."

"And if the cops find it?" Matthew countered. "What happens then? All of this will have been for nothing."

"Well, make it so that only one of us can stop it," Izzy said. "Give it a password only you or I could guess, color-code the wires so that only we would know which one to cut, _something_."

There was a pause for a moment. Then Matthew said, "How about both?"

"Both?" Izzy repeated. "Why?"

Matthew took a step closer to her and gently put his arms around her. "Izzy…" He sighed, smiling at her. "I know this whole thing was supposed to be about me," he said, "but the fact is, it's about _us_. We're going to relive our story - how we found each other, and our lives together from there…so let's make _all_ of this about us. This bomb won't just be my revenge, it will be the ultimate expression of our love for each other. Let's make it as much about us as we can."

Izzy blinked. "I…_want_ it to be about you, though," she said softly; "you deserve to get back at the people who hurt you, just like I did."

Matthew's loving smile widened. "I don't need revenge, my love," he told her; "I just need you. So let's make this about me _and_ you."

"Okay," Izzy said breathlessly. She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but this changed things…

She gave herself a mental shake. "Okay," she said again, "so…a password only we would know…"

They thought for a moment. Then, Matthew smiled.

"How about your name?" he suggested. "No matter what the cops might find out, no one can guess your name; I mean, your face doesn't have a name attached to it, in _any_ database."

"Which name?" Izzy asked suspiciously.

"You know, just your name," Matthew said quickly. "Izzy."

"I-Z-Z-Y," Izzy said, just to clarify the spelling.

Matthew nodded, still smiling. "Perfect," he said. "As for the color-coded wires…"

"Red, blue, and yellow, as always," Izzy said. She smiled. "The colors of home."

"Chad _will_ always be home for us," Matthew agreed; "not this godforsaken place."

Izzy laughed.

"Yellow is the only color different from the colors of the American flag," Matthew went on.

"Cut the yellow wire, then?" Izzy said.

"Sounds good to me," Matthew said.

~X~

Everything was falling into place; it looked like endgame would go without a hitch - even the safehouse they had to set up seemed like it would be no problem at all.

Of course, as predicted, Izzy had to have sex with Chris and Ollie again after their final heist before endgame. She managed to avoid having to do it any other time by telling them that she could _only_ get off on a fresh kill - that she was just wired that way. She had always believed that to be the case…but when she got in bed with Matthew that night, she decided to test whether or not it really was true.

She didn't say a word about it to Matthew. When their bodies came together, however, Izzy tried, for a change, to _not_ think about the teenage girl she had killed at the hold-up she had been involved in that day. Instead, she tried to focus on the present - on where she was, who she was with, what she was doing…

And to her surprise, she found that she wasn't even slightly nervous.

Matthew's weight on top of her didn't remind her at all of the abuse she had suffered as a child, and the feeling of him inside of her didn't even slightly stir memories of the agony of her lost innocence; when she worked up the nerve to try, she couldn't even feel her scars against him. There was no pain and no fear; nothing but trust, and desire, and love - always, _always_ love.

And why should it be any other way? This wasn't Henry Reynolds. This was Matthew Downs, the man who loved her.

The man she loved.

She moved against him, losing herself in his arms. The monster in her was set aside and ignored, and all she thought about was the man she was with, and the love she shared with him.

And it was good.

~X~

"Matthew," Izzy murmured a little while after they finished. "Matthew, my love, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Matthew asked, turning on his side to face her.

She smiled at him. "When we made love just now…I wasn't thinking about today's kill," she told him. "I didn't need to."

He blinked.

Izzy's smile widened. "I don't need the kill anymore," she said, almost tearful with happiness; "I just need _you_."

"Izzy, my love…" He ran his hand up and down her arm. "What are you saying?" he asked her.

"I'm saying we can be together every night from now on," Izzy answered. "I don't need to kill to enjoy it."

Matthew's eyes widened. "Chris and Ollie…?" he asked.

"No," Izzy said, shaking her head. "No, I can't be with them…just you." She smiled at him again. "I love you," she told him. "I love you, and that's all I need to be with you."

"I love you, too," he said softly.

She kissed him. He kissed her back, and everything was perfect.

~X~

They were together every night after that. It felt a bit strange to Izzy, to take pleasure in something other than murder and mayhem, but strange in a good way. In fact, if she hadn't still needed to spend all her daytime hours with Chris and Ollie, the month leading up to her and Matthew's fourth anniversary would have been utterly perfect. Of course, she _did_ still have to spend all of every day with the two brothers (who, at this point, were little more than drones programmed to do her bidding); still, the nights were the happiest times she would ever know. It was more than just the pleasure of sex; during those fleeting, precious minutes with Matthew, the monster she had always believed to be all there was to her was gone and forgotten, leaving her simply a woman - a human being, just as capable of good as she was of evil - enjoying intimacy with the man she loved. It was wonderful, it was paradise, it was _heaven_…

…until about ten days before endgame, when something started to change, and Izzy got a very bad feeling.

~X~

It was exactly one week before endgame. Izzy sat in the bathroom, paralyzed with terror, trying to convince herself that she wasn't seeing what she was seeing, or that it was all just a bad dream and she would wake up any minute, or _anything_ but that it was true…

But it was. She knew it was. There was no doubt.

"Matthew…" she whimpered, barely audible even to herself.

Then, suddenly unable to hold still anymore, she leapt to her feet. "Matthew!" she cried, tearing out of the bathroom.

"Yeah?" he asked.

She swallowed nervously. "We have a problem," she told Matthew.

"What's wrong?" he asked her worriedly, walking over to her.

Unable to make herself say it, she just held it out to him.

"What is this?" he asked, taking it. "A pregnancy test?"

She closed her eyes and turned away, waiting for the inevitable. Sure enough, after a minute, he said it.

"You're pregnant?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Apparently," she replied miserably.

There was silence for a moment. Then, suddenly, Izzy felt Matthew's arms go around her, and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her passionately. Purely by reflex, she kissed him back; when her mind caught up with what was happening, however, she pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed. "This is _bad_!"

"Why?" Matthew asked, smiling at her for some reason.

"_Why_?" she repeated disbelievingly. "Matthew, do you not understand what's happening? I am _pregnant_!" She pointed to her abdomen. "There is a living human being growing inside of me right now!"

"Well, am I the father?" Matthew asked.

Izzy blinked. "_Yes_," she said, indignant that he would even think to question it. "Of _course_ you are! I was only ever with those two idiots twice, and I always made sure they were safe; I've only ever _really_ been with _you_!"

"Then what's the problem?" Matthew asked, still smiling for some unfathomable reason.

"_What's the problem_?" Izzy repeated, bewildered. She shook her head and took a step back. "This is _more_ than just a _problem_," she told him; "this is a _disaster_! I cannot have a child, Matthew!" She started pacing back and forth in front of him, unable to stand still. "I can't believe this is happening," she groaned miserably.

"Izzy, if you didn't want to get pregnant, you should have-" Matthew began.

"Yes!" Izzy exploded, turning on him, "I know! This is _my_ fault! I should have thought of this! I should have said something! I should have taken preventative measures! Shoulda, woulda, coulda, _didn't_! Thank you _so_ _much_ for reminding me that this is entirely on me! Now why don't you say something _helpful_?"

Matthew blinked, apparently rendered speechless by this tirade.

Izzy closed her eyes, shook her head, and started pacing again. "I can't believe I let this happen," she muttered, utterly miserable. "I mean, this isn't just a big problem - it's a big problem with absolutely _no_ solution! There is no way to resolve this!"

"Izzy…"

"I can't have an abortion," Izzy said, not even noticing Matthew speak. "I know I should, but I just…I can't…" Her scars twinged, and she shuddered. "No," she said, "I can't make myself bleed again. I just can't."

"Izzy."

"We're going to set off two large bombs during endgame, so there's a _chance_ I might have a miscarriage," she went on. "We can't rely on that, though, especially not considering my luck."

"_Izzy_."

"I can't put this child up for adoption, either," Izzy continued. "I can't just abandon this child, like my mother did me - I wouldn't be able to live with myself!"

"_Izzy_!"

"But the absolute _worst_ thing would be for me to keep this child and raise it myself!" Izzy said, her chest constricting with panic. "Children should not be raised by monsters, and I _am_ a monster - hell, I'm even _proud_ that I'm a monster! I cannot - I can _not_ - be a mother, Matthew, I just-!"

"_IZZY_!" Matthew shouted, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to face him.

She stopped.

"Get a grip," Matthew told her.

"_GET A GRIP_?" Izzy shrieked, her hysteria only rising. "_HOW can you tell me to get a GRIP_? _This is a CATASTROPHE_! _Of all the worst things that could happen, this is THE WORST POSSIBLE THING_! _This is_-!"

"_Not your problem_!" Matthew said firmly.

Izzy blinked.

Matthew sighed, pressing his forehead against hers. "Listen to me," he said gently; "I think you're looking at this the wrong way."

"_The wrong way_?" she exclaimed. "What other way could I possib-?"

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy," Matthew said quickly, cutting her off; "Izzy…Izzy. Listen to me, Izzy. I think you're looking at this from the perspective of if you had to face this on your own - and yes, if you had to handle this on your own, it _would_ be bad, I completely agree. But, Izzy…you _don't_ have to face this on your own," he told her soothingly. "This is not _your_ baby, Izzy; this is _our_ baby - as much my responsibility as yours. I'm here for you. I'll help you."

"Matthew…" Izzy swallowed nervously. "I'm scared," she whispered tearfully. She would never have said those words aloud in front of anyone else - whether it was true or not - but she trusted Matthew enough…

"I know," he said gently. "I understand. Honestly, so am I. But we're in this _together_, Izzy, and we can do this. There's nothing we can't handle, as long as we're together."

"Matthew…" Izzy whimpered. She shook her head slightly. "I want to believe you, but…I just don't see how that can be. How can we handle this? There just…isn't any way."

"Well, let's think about this for a minute," Matthew said calmly. "Abortion and adoption are out of the question - I completely see where you're coming from on that, and I agree. That means we'll have to raise this child ourselves."

"But we _can't_!" Izzy cried. "We can't be parents! _I_ can't be a parent! I never even _had_ parents - how the hell am I supposed to know what to do?"

"Izzy, _I_ had loving parents," Matthew reminded her. "_I_ knew goodness once; I can figure it out. As for you…" He hesitated. "Well, you know what _not_ to do," he said after a moment, shrugging.

Izzy couldn't stop the little bubble of hysterical laughter that escaped her at that.

Matthew smiled back at her. "So let's think," he said. "What do we want for this child?"

"Apart from it not existing?" Izzy asked, half-serious.

"Well, it _does_ exist, and there's nothing that can be done about that now," Matthew said; "so let's think _realistically_ here. What do we want for this child?"

Izzy thought for a second, trying to make herself breathe. "Children shouldn't be raised by monsters," she said.

"Okay," Matthew said.

"We _are_ monsters," she went on.

"We do bad things," Matthew admitted, "but we aren't _just_ monsters. There's more to us than what we do. We're not monsters to _each_ _other_ - we don't hurt each other or anything."

"Yeah, well, you're different from other people," Izzy said softly.

"And so are you," Matthew said; "and this child is _us_, Izzy - it's part of you, and it's part of me. We don't have to treat it like we do everyone else in the world. We can treat it the way we treat each other: with caring, and support, and love - _always_ with love."

"Okay," Izzy whispered, the constriction in her chest not loosening. "But still, even if we don't hurt this child directly, making it grow up seeing what we do would be just as bad."

"Then let's make sure it doesn't," Matthew said. "We can lie low, even retire."

"We can't _completely_ retire," Izzy protested; "we have no other source of income. I mean…" She chuckled, more than slightly hysterically. "We can't exactly get jobs," she said.

Matthew chuckled, too. "No, we can't," he agreed; "still, we can tone it down. I mean, you can steal on your own - you don't need me for that. I can look after this child while you do your thing, _far_ away from it all. As for everything else…"

"No more killing random people just for the fun of it," Izzy said, continuing his thought. "And no more bombs - _none_, ever again."

"Okay," Matthew said; "if you can stop, so can I."

"I _can_ stop, as long as I have you," Izzy whispered.

"Okay," Matthew repeated. "Now, what else?"

Izzy thought, still feeling like she could hardly breathe. "We can't raise this child on lies," she said; "none of that B.S. about life being fair or people being good. If a child grows up being told crap like that, then when they experience the real world, it'll only hurt them."

"Okay," Matthew said again. "We raise this child away from society and the lies it teaches. We can home-school it - I mean, you're brilliant, I'm sure you'd do great."

Izzy smiled, if still hysterically.

"We just won't let our child _see_ the way the world is," Matthew went on.

"Until it's old enough," Izzy inserted. "We can't protect it forever, and we wouldn't be doing it any favors even if we could."

"Okay," Matthew said; "how old is old enough?"

"Ten," Izzy replied, not even needing to think about it for a second. "Age ten is when innocence dies."

"Okay," Matthew said again; "until then, we'll keep it away from the world, and I'll make sure it never sees you do your bank-robbing routine."

"We can't be fugitives, though," Izzy said; "we need to settle down somewhere, give our child a constant in life."

"Okay," Matthew said, "where should we go?"

Izzy thought for a moment, then smiled. "Home," she replied.

"To Chad?" Matthew half-asked. "Okay - perfect. It's about as far away from this goddamn country as it's possible to be, and it means something to us. It's perfect."

Izzy blinked. "My god…" she breathed, the tightness in her chest finally letting up; "we might actually be able to do this."

"You see?" Matthew said, grinning at her. "I told you - as long as we're together, there's nothing we can't handle."

"We can actually pull this off," Izzy realized out loud. "We can do this!" She hugged Matthew tightly. "We can do this," she whispered.

Matthew hugged her back. "Of course we can, my love," he murmured.

Izzy's pulse slowed, and she felt like she could breathe again. "I love you," she told Matthew softly, relaxing in his arms.

"I love you, too," he replied. He was silent for a moment, then added, "In fact…"

He pulled out of her embrace slightly, took hold of both of her hands in his, and got down on one knee.

"What are you doing?" Izzy asked.

"Izzy Rogers will you marry me?" he asked her in one breath.

She blinked. "_What_?" she asked, certain she had misheard.

He swallowed nervously but repeated, "Will you marry me?"

Izzy just stared at him, speechless. She waited for him to laugh, to say he was joking, to give some indication that she had misheard him, _something_.

But he didn't. He just looked up into her eyes, his expression still wordlessly asking the question. After a full minute had passed, it was too awkward for Izzy to take anymore.

"You're not serious?" she half-asked.

"I am," he said, his eyes expressing nothing but honesty.

She shook her head slightly. "_Why_?" she asked, utterly bewildered. "That…That doesn't make any sense! What would the point be? I mean…" She smiled, somewhat hysterically again. "We're not religious, so I know you're not worried about our child being a bastard; and we wouldn't get any legal benefits because, well, screw the law…So…what would be the point?"

"The point is what it _means_," Matthew answered, still on one knee; "what it _symbolizes_."

"Which is…?" Izzy asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"That we'll always be together, no matter what," Matthew said.

Izzy blinked.

"Izzy, I love you," Matthew told her; "I always have, and I always will - I'll love you _forever_. I'll always be here for you. We'll live together, we'll die together - nothing will ever come between us. I would brave hell and high water to stay by your side; and if heaven, hell, and everything in between conspired together to try and separate us, I would fight through all of it and more to stay with you, because nothing will tear us apart - _nothing_ can stop us. _That's_ what marriage means to me."

Izzy was shocked. She had never imagined that anything like this - such pure, absolute, unending _love_ - existed in the world _at_ _all_…and here Matthew was, telling her she could have it for her very own. What was more, as she thought about it, she realized that she felt exactly the same thing for him.

"So?" Matthew asked softly. "Will you marry me?"

For a moment, Izzy couldn't speak. Then, she fell to her knees and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Yes," she sobbed, helpless to stop the happy tears that were streaming down her face. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, _yes_!"

Matthew hugged her back, and somehow she knew that he was rendered speechless by happy tears of his own.

They stayed like that for a minute. Then, Izzy pulled back a bit so she could look Matthew in the eye.

"Right now?" she asked.

"No, not right now," he answered quickly; "we don't have time."

"Don't tell me you're planning on a full-blown party," she teased, smiling.

"Well, maybe we could blow something up afterwards," he joked.

She laughed.

"How about the day after endgame?" he suggested.

"Okay," Izzy said. "…Okay."

He sighed, smiling at her. "I love you, Izzy," he said.

"I love you, too, Matthew," Izzy told him.

They kissed, and Izzy knew complete joy.

~X~

As she was falling asleep in his arms that night, Izzy heard Matthew speak.

"We'll always be together, Izzy," he murmured. "_Always_ - not even death can separate us. I will never leave you, not ever - I can't even die, as long as you're alive. I will always be right by your side; I will _always_ be here for you, no matter what. You'll never have to spend another moment of your life without me.

"I promise."


End file.
